White Eyes
by Perfect Soldier 01
Summary: LxZxFD. Sequel to A Time Once Lost. Zelda is fascinated by Link's mask collection, but when the Fierce Deity takes over Link's body she finds herself developing some rather unwanted feelings. Can she rescue Link and still part ways with the Fierce Deity?
1. Chapter 1: Losing You

**AN: Here we are! Finally. As this is a sequel, I would recommend that you read** _A Time Once Lost _**as there is a lot of background that is fairly important in establishing Link and Zelda's relationship. I reckon that this can be enjoyed on its own as well, but there may be some parts that refer back to **_A Time Once Lost_**. I'll try to flag those up when and where they appear. I'm also basing this on the extra end story in the Majora's Mask manga. It gives an interesting perspective to Majora's origin, so I would recommend you check it out :). Without further ado, here we go! Perfect Soldier 01**

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White Eyes 

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 1: Losing You**

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_Majora's Mask._

_It is an accursed item that is said to have been used by an ancient tribe in its hexing rituals. They say that an evil and wicked power is bestowed upon the one who wears that mask._

_According to legend... the troubles caused by Majora's Mask were so great that the ancient ones, fearing such catastrophe, sealed the mask in shadow forever, preventing its misuse._

_But now that tribe from the legend has vanished, so no one really knows the true nature of the mask's power..._

_...But I feel it._

"Those words chilled me to the very bone."

Link's eyes rose from the floor to some indistinct point near my knees. He wrung his hands together, fidgeting with his gauntlets, and he heaved another sigh.

"I will never forget what he told me that day. There was something about that man's eyes…they were frighteningly sincere." He paused and looked at me directly, his gaze piercing the air in-between us. "I mean, he knew what the mask held in store for him, but still…he searched for it relentlessly. I never knew what became of him. When it was all over he disappeared."

Link leaned back in his chair, looking out towards the window. The sunlight glossed over his skin, shining for mere seconds in the golden tufts of his hair. I watched him silently, reflecting on that moment when we said our farewells on that day seven years ago.

He had looked away in the same manner, his eyes slightly more downcast, but the tilt of his face was the same. Now his features had matured and were altogether more refined, like that of a true Hylian. But just as it was then, I could still tell when his calm voice betrayed him. A certain restless discontentment always hovered around his words like a moth drawn to a flame.

Link turned his head and retreated back into the shade of the room, breaking the spell of nostalgia as he resumed his story. "That man had no interest in any of the other masks I found, not even the Fierce Deity Mask. It was just as powerful, more so perhaps."

"And he still didn't want it?" I asked.

"None of them seemed to be worth _anything_. I remember when I held that mask in my hands; it had the same, what's the word…ominous feeling. It was almost as if they were two of a kind, those masks."

I leant backward, contemplating the information once more. I had become fascinated with Link's masks ever since he had recounted his adventures in Termina to me; they were like nothing I had ever seen before. He had been kind enough to indulge my curiosity for a while, letting me try them on and proving to me that one really could make you stay awake all night…

It had been innocent enough, but then I had stumbled across the masks that could change Link into something else. He had been reluctant to show these to me, but had practically forbidden me to even touch the Fierce Deity Mask. I could immediately sense a sinister presence in each of them, but none so potent as the Fierce Deity. Just looking at it would make me feel uneasy, as if the air was gathering around my throat and preventing my breath from escaping.

Yet it was that fear that had drawn me toward it. The more Link refused to talk about it, the more intrigued I became, and so I kept pressing him for more details until he finally yielded to my plea. I wanted to believe that it was not a malicious mask, but I could not ignore the bitter resentment that seemed to seep out of its blank eyes.

I suddenly realised that I had been quiet for a long time, and I leant forward, resting my elbows on my knees and pressed my knuckles across my mouth.

I looked at Link seriously, but I knew that he could predict my question before I had even gathered the words together. The corners of his mouth drooped ever so slightly, his lips parting anxiously as his eyes loosened the frown into a more concerned puzzlement.

"Can I see it again?" I asked tentatively.

He held in a sigh, which was more than enough confirmation for me. He gazed at me for a brief moment, silently asking me whether I was really certain about this. I half smiled at him, and he stood up and retrieved the mask from a drawer in his desk. At once the air thickened and I tried not to let a shiver run over my skin.

He placed it in my hands, his fingers lingering against mine as the exchange took place. I also delayed bringing the mask down to my lap, and I wanted our touch to reassure him that there was no need to be so wary about this harmless object. Our eyes caught each other as we both noticed the prolonged changing of hands, and I hoped that his small smile was a sign of his accepting my wish.

I looked down into its blind, white eyes as Link returned to his chair. I almost felt nervous scrutinising its plain face like this, as though I was being examined myself. The mask had a smooth surface and the contours were gentle. The red and blue markings bore no texture and were as polished as the rest of the surface. The inside of the mask was no different. It was truly a rather unremarkable piece of work. Even so, there was something captivating about its face, how its eyes drew your gaze and held you suspended in time and space…

"Zelda," Link said, breaking my concentration.

Suddenly I realised that I had forgotten where I was and that Link's voice had practically woken me out of something like a trance. I had to tear my eyes away from it and I pushed it back into Link's hands. He set it aside on the desk behind him and took my hands in his.

"Are you all right? You had a strange look on your face."

"I-I'm fine," I said hurriedly, trying to compose myself.

The sun unexpectedly flashed in my eyes and I shied away from the blinding light, but Link rested his forehead against mine, enclosing us in his shadow. I closed my eyes as I let his lips float over mine, momentarily forgetting how uncomfortable I had just felt. He kissed me gently, sweeping me away from this world again into a disorientating haze of pleasure. I envied how he was able to pick these moments with such perfect precision. He never seemed to get it wrong.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he said, his breath warm against my skin.

"Of course," I replied against his mouth, wanting to continue for a little longer to completely eradicate the unsettling atmosphere that still emanated from the mask.

I kissed him again, but he quickly turned away, his gaze settling on the mask.

"I wonder whether it would feel the same…" he said absentmindedly.

"Feel like what?" I exclaimed, slightly bewildered at the strange remark. "Are my kisses not good enough for you?" I teased mockingly.

He blinked and shot me a glance of embarrassment. "No, no!" he said, trying to laugh it off. "I love your kisses." And he drew another from the well of my mouth, each corner of our lips curling into a grin.

"What I meant, o devil of mine, was whether it would feel the same to put the mask on again."

"Of course," I said arching my eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"I'm being perfectly serious!" he cried, trying to banish the teasing smile from his face. He picked up the mask and held it in front of his face. "This is what I would look like. Imagine me now but with this face."

I tried, and his hair and clothes somewhat suited the mask's features. The shape of its face was very similar to Link's, and I had a picture in my mind of what he might possibly look like… But I could not shake how terrible it would be if Link lost the brilliant blue of his eyes. The mask's eyes were soulless, cruel and unfeeling… everything that Link's eyes were not.

"Put it a little closer," I said. "It's a little too far away." I reached out toward him and gently pushed his forearms back a fraction. There, just there, I could see what Link would become. I gasped inwardly and averted my gaze. To think that he would be looking at me out of those cold, white eyes…it made me feel repulsed.

"Put it away, Link. I can't bear to - "

It was only for a moment, a few seconds perhaps, but that small movement, that slight shift of my hands against him, had not stopped. Before I could grasp the tips of his fingers curled around the mask's edge he had completely encompassed his face. A sudden lurch of Link's body threw him back in his chair and a searing shriek burst from inside him.

The pulsating shudder of the mask's power reverberated through to the core of my bones, and a bright light surrounded his cruciform figure, stealing him away from my sight. I screamed his name, my limbs paralysed by an overwhelming terror, but my voice was silenced in Link's warped cry and it became lost in the deeper, almost inhuman screech.

The light then shot forward, the force shoving me down to the flagstones like the brute kick of a horse. I could barely breathe but I snapped my head up, staring in fright at what awaited me behind that white curtain. I held my breath as everything vanished away into nothing, and even though all was quiet that horrible noise was still throbbing through my head.

Daring to lift my gaze over the whole of its stature, I could not even form the shape of Link's name in my mouth. What stood before me was not Link, in any shape or form.

"You," he barked ferociously, narrowing his imperious glare. "Get up."

I didn't move. He roared with fury and kicked away the chair that lay between us. "Get up, NOW!" Taking one giant stride toward me, he seized my arm and yanked me up from the floor single-handedly, the clattering crash of the chair ringing in my ears. He tossed me away like a rag doll. "Tell me where he is, you worthless mortal!"

I could only stare at him in shock. "Do I have to repeat myself? WHERE IS HE?"

"W-Where is who?" I somehow managed to mumble.

He vented an angry sigh, his hands twitching with rage. "You're wasting my time!"

Before I could utter another word he had slammed the door and was gone, leaving me numb and alone in Link's chamber.

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**AN: Who is Fierce Deity talking about? What in Din's name is going on? Answers will be coming shortly! As always, please review:D I really appreciate your views and comments! Until the next chapter Perfect Soldier 01**


	2. Chapter 2: Negotiation

**AN: Hello again everyone! First, I must apologise for not updating during these past three months! Term was so busy that I just didn't find any time to work on this chapter! Hopefully you won't have to wait quite so long again for the next chapter. To try and make up for it, this chapter is double the length of the first one, so I hope you enjoy it! - Perfect Soldier 01**

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**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 2: Negotiation**

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At first I thought it was a joke, that Link was playing the part of the Fierce Deity with an all too realistic touch. I almost expected him to pop his head round the door again, his smug lips plastered with the glowing delight of revenge having been duly delivered for making him transform unexpectedly.

But in the space of a moment's breath that thought was soon replaced by another all the more frightening. I staggered to the door, my limbs shaking with apprehension. The stiff iron handle still held a glimmer of warmth, but as I lifted the latch I feared that this small, lingering touch was no longer the result of Link's kind and gentle hand. It almost felt slightly alien, as though it came from the rough fist of a stranger.

I pulled the heavy door open and caught sight of him already halfway down the long hallway. "Wait!" I cried desperately as I ran towards him.

He carried on in his large stride without even a slight turn of his head as I continued to run after him. When I thought I was close enough I reached for his arm, but my fingers barely brushed the metallic sheen of his gauntlets. I expected him to carry on regardless, yet even that slight graze against his arm was enough to bring him to a sudden halt. I was about to smile when I realised that I actually lunged a little too far and my feet were beginning to lose their balance. Although he had stopped, I couldn't help but crash into the back of him.

Before I could even become embarrassed by my clumsy mistake, he turned around and pushed me away with a low grunt of irritation like I had been a petty insect hovering around his face. As his hand withdrew from my shoulder, I could still feel its heavy imprint, and it began to bear down on me with just as much force as the ensuing glare that became firmly set in his face.

"Get out of my sight," he growled.

"N-no," I stammered, attempting to match his stare to prove that I was not going to back down.

But my eyes were immediately drawn to the red and blue markings around his jaws and forehead that I hadn't quite appreciated before. All at once they directed my gaze back to his cold, cruel scowl that somehow managed to tower above me more than before, and I trembled inwardly at my inadequacy. Yet, in spite of trying to conceal my fear, a small grin on his face was enough to tell me that he had seen through my buckling resolve. At the same time he raised his eyebrows, evidently surprised at my refusal, but his cynical smile continued to grow on his lips.

"What's this?" he said curiously, stepping closer to me.

Reaching out, he leaned forward and tilted up my chin, bringing his face closer to mine. I reeled at the sudden proximity between us, but he merely chuckled, clearly enjoying my squirming and relishing the increasing shallowness of my breath.

"You look like a mouse that's about to get clawed by the cat," he said before flicking his fingers away, letting go of my face.

He held his head high again, undoubtedly satisfied that he could still inspire the gripping talons of fear to choke all sensation and thought away from his victims. However, I didn't feel quite so disgusted as I had anticipated, and I slowly came to realise that his pale face couldn't fill me with the same creeping menace and terror that belonged to the green hue of that pitch-black skin embedded within a tumult of red fire. And that man, I hoped, was long since dead.

With one last sneer, the stranger in Link's body turned to leave once more.

"Wait!" I cried again with a renewed courage, and I lunged forward again, latching firmly onto his tunic sleeve.

This time I was ready for his punishing hand to strike me and I saw it rise in the few seconds that followed, his features clearly infuriated at my persistence. I winced as I moved to dodge, but not even the air was subjected to his rage. Looking up at him, he had restrained his hand and, from what I could see, had somewhat resigned himself to listen to what I had to say.

"What _do_ you want?" he demanded. "I don't have the time to deal with you!"

I swallowed away as much anxiety as I could digest, and tentatively let go of his sleeve. "Who is it that you are looking for?"

"Who?" he said incredulously, "Who? You're asking the Fierce Deity who he's looking for? That damned musician who sealed me in this infernal mask, that's who!"

I was taken aback by the force of his answer, but more so because he had confirmed the horrible reality that I had refused to believe up until now – that he really was the Fierce Deity, the spirit of an all-powerful god that had now manifested itself inside Link's consciousness, and now he was ready to wreak his vengeance upon the unfortunate soul that had been his undoing.

"Listen, woman," he said interrupting my thoughts, "if you can't help me, then leave me alone."

"No, no, wait! I can help you!" I pleaded, wanting to prevent any opportunity he might see to leave.

"I somehow doubt that." His disbelief angered me.

"Do you even know who I am?" I said indignantly.

"Frankly, I don't care who you are if you can't help me."

With that I felt the small shreds of regal pride that had been dormant ever since I suffered the humiliating defeat of Zant and his Twili Army burst inside me.

"I am Princess Zelda of Hyrule, the sole sovereign of this - " I said proudly, but before I could continue he interrupted me.

"Hyrule?" He looked surprisingly bewildered.

"Yes, Hyrule. If you thought you were still in Termina then you're sadly mistaken, so _frankly_, I think that I am the _only_ person who can help you at present," I said with a triumphant smile.

He stood silently for a moment and brought a hand to his forehead, threading his fingers through the locks of hair that rested gently against his jaw while he leant against the wall with his opposite arm. He looked as though he might be worried, but the blank expanse of his eyes made his expression difficult to interpret. Muttering something like a curse underneath his breath he then straightened his posture as if to regain some authority.

"What exactly would your 'help' entail, princess?"

His words had immediately lost their derisive sting, but the god still held a persistent air of arrogance about him. Although I currently had the upper hand, I knew that he would still look down on me regardless of whether he stood head and shoulders above me or not.

"Well, I could command a nationwide search for this man, and of course I could call on all the neighbouring races to aid our endeavour as well. I have an entire army of soldiers and emissaries," I said, even though I knew it was a rather exaggerated claim, "and they could be dispatched to the farthest corners of the kingdom until this man was found." He seemed pleased. "But you must promise me something in return," I said firmly, watching and waiting for his reaction.

"What?" he answered simply.

"You must promise to stay here in the mountains until we find him."

The thought of being an accomplice in this poor man's demise revolted every one of my senses, but I could think of nothing else to say that would keep Link's body within my grasp. The last thing I could allow would be for this god to go raging through the plains of Hyrule and never return.

After a moment of contemplation he was ready with his answer. "We have an agreement." I let out a small sigh of relief, thinking that I had managed to resolve this matter, but he went on to continue. "However - " My smile fell at once. "I'm giving you a week. If your resources prove ineffectual, I will be forced to decline your gracious hospitality."

"Two weeks," I said in a panic. It would be almost impossible to try and find a way to undo Link's transformation in the short space of only one week.

"One week only, princess. I could probably find him myself in that length of time, but I think I would rather enjoy watching you fail instead." His sardonic grin had returned now that he was in control of the conversation again.

"You obviously don't have much faith in me…" I started, trying to salvage my composure, but I stopped short.

I was about to add "Fierce Deity" onto the end of my sentence, but somehow that didn't sound right as a title to address him with, and I was completely at a loss as to what else I should call this god standing in front of me. My pause caused him to look at me strangely, and I suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed.

"…your name?" I mumbled, failing to turn my head away in time to miss the amused grin that spread right across his face.

"My name?" He crossed his arms.

"You must have a name, surely?"

"I'm not sure you've earned the privilege yet, princess."

I expected him to reply in the same sardonic manner as before, but now he was entirely serious. He almost seemed more angry than arrogant at that moment, and then a daring thought struck me.

"Do you even remember - "

"Seeing as how you're not a god like myself, dear princess," he cut in with a loud voice, "I think that "Lord" will do just fine for the time being."

While I suppressed the urge to retaliate against his derogatory words, stomaching with great difficulty the idea of having to refer to him as "His Lordship" – I would rather refer to him as "Fierce Deity" than _that_, I realised that it was entirely possibly, given his reaction, that he couldn't even remember his own name.

"But rather than wasting time battling out just how much faith I really have in your efforts," he continued through gritted teeth, "I would suggest that you start this search before you find yourself out of time."

I look up at him and he knew exactly what I had figured out. I wasn't going to push it any further just then, but he was obviously aware that I now had one string to my bow in which to strike him down with, so to speak.

But before I could say anything else I heard a pair of footsteps echo down the corridor from the flight of stairs at the end of the hallway. I had hoped that it might have been Impa, but the heavy clatter of their shoes told me that it was more likely to be a servant.

As I stood there listening, gazing past the Fierce Deity's arm, he craned his neck in the same direction. I knew very well that he mustn't be seen by anyone, that the events leading to Link's disappearance had to be contained until I had thought of a reasonable explanation to present to those still living in the manor. But it seemed that the god was already one step ahead of me.

"Well, princess, what are you going to do?"

Without replying I latched onto his wrist and started to pull him in the opposite direction. To my surprise he made no attempt at resisting my actions, which I was inwardly grateful for. But even so, as we walked away from the intrusion I could not help but compare the present moment to the time when Link and I had almost been caught stealing a kiss in the hallway.

We had run through the manor down exactly the same path as we were taking at the moment, almost falling over ourselves with nervous laughter, and often I had held onto Link's wrist just as I was holding Fierce Deity's now. My hand had fitted perfectly around Link's, and most of the time my fingers would slide down and naturally ease into his grasp; but Fierce Deity's wrist was much larger, and my fingers barely touched one another.

I tightened my grip, trying to make my fingers touch, striving in vain to delude myself that this was all just a dream even if only for a moment. Yet the more I forced my hand, the more I felt my throat become restricted by unshed tears of regret.

"Now, now, princess, there's no need to get all emotional."

I stopped immediately and let go of him. I was almost certain that he couldn't have seen my face, or even have seen that I had been showing any outward signs of my pained memories. Staring at him, my eyes searching for an answer, I opened my mouth to voice some kind of false denial but found no words to help me.

He sighed and walked on, this time grabbing _my_ wrist, and he almost dragged me forward in order to keep up with his quick pace. Once I wasn't stumbling over my own feet, I noticed that his hand wasn't dwarfing mine like I might have expected it to. Although his hold was a little rough, it actually rested there with a degree of comfort.

"Don't get any ideas, princess," he muttered without even turning to look at me. "Where are we going?"

"T-To my study," I said in a daze, utterly bemused by how he seemed capable of reading my thoughts. "Turn right there and go down to the end of the hallway. It's the door at the end."

When we reached the door I expected him to let go of me, but instead he opened the door, flung me inside, and only then did he free me from his strong hold. He closed the door and bolted the lock, turning upon me slowly like a predator might eye his prey before pouncing to devour it.

I moved away, tearing my eyes away from his horrible gaze and walked toward the large balcony windows at the other end of the room. But as I moved pass my oak desk and looked out the window at the snowy landscape, I caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. His shoulders had slumped and he almost looked puzzled, as though he were contemplating something important.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"N-Nothing," I replied, but I could see his reflection approaching me from behind, growing larger and larger until it stopped behind me.

"Is that all there is to Hyrule?" he said.

"Of course not. Hyrule extends much further than you can see right now." I paused for a moment, thinking of how I too missed viewing the vast expanse of Hyrule from the very top of the castle. "Had it not been for the war, I wouldn't be stuck up here in the mountains and I might have been able to offer you a better view from the castle."

"The war was certainly a fierce one," he said almost wistfully.

"Yes," I said suspiciously, not quite sure what to make of his tone, or even that he seemed to know about Ganondorf's second invasion.

"It was because of that battle that I became sealed in this mask in the first place."

Struck by his words, I turned to face him, not fully appreciating just how close he had come. My eyes were suddenly greeted by the bright orange crescent on his breastplate and I staggered backwards, my hands and back pressing against the window. He looked down at me, his expression having greatly softened from when he first stepped into the room, and I could feel my face grow warmer and warmer as the moment went by. With the sunlight shining on his white hair, his whole figure began to glow with an almost angelic sheen. He was no longer the enflamed, threatening beast of the hallway; instead, he could nearly be mistaken for a human…even mistaken for Link.

Shrinking away from both him and the window before I could let him see my reddening cheeks, I positioned myself so that my desk now stood between us.

"So," I said, my trembling words having no more control over themselves than before, "what does this man you're searching for look like?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of this man," he said, his sharp tone returning to his voice. My awkward silence was greeted with an irritated groan. "How can you not know who he is?"

"To my knowledge, there has never been such a person who has been brought to my immediate attention," I said averting my gaze. "That doesn't mean to say that he's not living somewhere in Hyrule at the moment, though…" I trailed off, waiting for him to answer my previous question. "Well, what does he look like?"

I looked up in time to catch him off guard. His lips had parted, and his eyes looked somewhat dilated, but it all merged into an angry grimace before long. Gritting his teeth he approached the desk and thrust his hands down. A great crash slapped my ears, and I involuntarily cowered in front of him.

"Stop playing games with me!" he yelled. "Listen! If you're not going to take this seriously then I'll look for him myself!"

Thankfully he didn't make any move towards the door. Instead he remained where he was, framed by the snow-white landscape against the dark stone of the walls. But his shoulders slowly hunched around his neck; his chest began to heave underneath its armour; his breath became loud and fuming. A dark aura gradually started to swirl around his feet, widening its path as it grew, curling high around his torso. The colour deepened to a dark purple, and I suddenly became aware that a small breeze was blowing along the curves of my face toward the centre of the vortex.

My body immediately remembered the same feeling of dread that had spread through my bones when I had first held the mask in my hands, only this time it was far more potent. His entire body was steeped with rage, every muscle coiled and tight, ready to spring and explode in a passionate fury.

No longer able to move or speak, I stood there captivated against my will, realising exactly how his title "Fierce Deity" had arisen. I was utterly terrified of what the next few moments held in store for me, more so than any other time I could recall in that instant. Once more my eyes were drawn to his. They were almost brighter than the shining snow that glittered in the sun outside, blazing like two torches of white fire.

All at once he came forward, and with one swipe of his arm pushed the desk aside. It scrapped along the flagstones with a shrill screech, but his pounding footsteps nearly drowned out the sound. I teetered backward, my feet numb with fright, and straight away I wasn't able to keep my balance.

But he reached forward and caught my forearm, just like he had caught me before, his hand squeezing my skin as firmly as a hawk might clasp onto its fresh kill. Yet instead of tossing me aside, he slowly lifted me off my feet and held me suspended in the air, bringing my face closer and closer to his.

For a long time he simply stared at me without even blinking. His breath was slow, even and calm, the very paragon of composure. Suddenly I could hear nothing except my own feverish heartbeat, and I was certain that he could hear it as well. I closed my eyes tightly and turned my head away, waiting for the blow or whatever punishment he must have had bubbling away inside his head.

But as I listened more closely, it was not just my resolve that was beginning to break down. I opened my eyes to find his calm face labouring under the strain of a scowl, his silent breathing growing heavy and awkward. Without any warning he dropped me to the floor, his hands flying to his heart.

"Damn it," he said huskily. "Damn this body!"

I landed on my feet, for he had not been holding me very high off the floor, and as I steadied myself I caught sight of the most pained expression on his face that I had ever seen. Just then his eyes seemed to roll back in their sockets, although it was hard to tell, and he swayed to the side, falling to the floor like a felled tree.

Before I knew what I was doing I rushed forward and tried to place myself between him and the cold stone floor. But the force of his fall was too great for me to hold on my own, and we fell down together in a heap.

A sharp pain cracked through my elbow as I hit the floor, and I cried out in pain. My head also rang with a dull ache, but as I became more aware of where I was, I realised that we had managed to fall partially onto the rug in the middle of the room. Moving my arm slightly nothing seemed to be broken, and I let out of sigh of relief.

But I suddenly remembered that the Fierce Deity was lying on top of me. His head was nestled like a child's on top of my chest and his torso was pressing down heavily on the rest of me. Luckily my arms were still free, and I slowly pushed myself up and rolled him over onto the floor beside me.

I took a few seconds to take in all that had happened, and I could still feel my heart pounding in my chest. I tried to inspect my elbow, pressing it gently just to assure myself that I hadn't damaged it too badly. Relieved that I had come to no greater harm than a slight knock on the arm, I turned my attention to the god lying motionless beside me.

His eyes were closed, and it seemed as though he had fainted, although from what I couldn't quite work out. As I looked at his face, I realised exactly what kind of an opportunity lay before me. I immediately scrambled to the side of his face and began to feel for the edges of the mask around his jaw and neck. If I could remove the mask now then this whole crisis would be averted.

But there were no edges; his skin was smooth and un-ruptured all the way from his cheek to his collarbone. I hit his chest in frustration, feeling small tears of defeat push themselves into my eyes. The god remained still, and I was glad for it. Even unconscious he still managed to continue in causing me grief.

However, as my clenched fist rested against him, I realised that there was no heartbeat throbbing against my hand. I held my breath as it dawned upon me that he had not merely fainted. I pressed my fingers against his neck, searching desperately for a pulse. I found nothing.

"Oh goddesses."

**AN: I realise that more is not always necessarily better. Was there too much that happened in that chapter? If you could review, that would be great! :D I promise to try and get the next chapter up much quicker this time. Until the next chapter then, Perfect Soldier 01**


	3. Chapter 3: Alone in the Darkness

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 3 – Alone in the Darkness**

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"Goddesses, what have I done?"

I panicked. All thoughts and activity in my mind seemed to slow down in a dizzying spiral of utter helplessness. My hands hovered around his jaw numb with fright, not knowing what they should do next; my limbs wouldn't move or obey the commands I tried to administer – they all seemed to simply sleep through my increasing apprehension and alarm, not the least bit concerned for Link's dying body.

Link! His name suddenly spurred me into action. In the blur of the previous moment I had somehow forgotten that he was now inextricably bound up with the Fierce Deity, and that anything that happened to the god must surely affect Link also.

Catching sight of the small straps that fastened the front and back of the Fierce Deity's armour, my nervous, shaking fingers tried to perform the simple task of unthreading the worn leather from the silver buckle. But with time now racing against the clock, everything appeared far too slow and inefficient for it to be of any use. Even though it probably only took a few seconds, it felt like valuable minutes had already flown by without me even making any successful attempt at saving his life.

The buckles finally came free, and although I couldn't remove the armour completely there was enough room for me to slide my hands underneath. Resting them briefly above his heart, I prayed to the heavens that I might just have checked in the wrong place. But when nothing responded beneath my palms again, it confirmed that what I had felt earlier was indeed true. At once I placed my hands on top of one another above his breastbone. I had seen Impa do this once before to a wounded soldier, and so I began to push down repeatedly in quick succession against the soft silk of his tunic.

"Come on," I murmured anxiously. "Come on, you idiot, start breathing! You can't die!"

He remained still, only moving like a pitiful ripple from when I pressed raggedly down on his chest. Just then the second step of the procedure dawned on me, and just the thought of it made me want to blush.

"Come on," I said again, almost kidding myself that my words might somehow reach him and prevent me from having to go through with it.

But as I continued my compressions probably much longer than I should have done, I began to gaze at his face. His features were no longer knitted in a tight frown, and he looked as though he had merely fallen asleep.

While I wished that were the case, I glanced down to his lips, which were parted ever so slightly. The white of his teeth peeped through the light rose of his mouth, which had uncoiled from his mocking grin and angry grimace and lay plainly in his face. It almost looked slightly unnatural for him to look so defenceless, but who was I to judge what expression was natural or not? We hadn't spent much more than an hour in each other's company…

I suddenly realised that my compressions were slowing down as I felt myself becoming fixated on those breathless lips. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I started pressing harder and faster, feeling slightly embarrassed at the feelings that were beginning to tug my heart in a direction I was not willing to go down.

"Damn you," I whispered.

Reluctantly acknowledging that my current actions were not being very productive, I tilted his chin up and his head back. Waiting for the smallest sign of life to magically awaken before I committed myself to this somewhat repulsive undertaking, I gradually lowered my head. Pausing once again, only mere millimetres away from his lips, I felt my breath billow back up against my cheeks. Shutting my eyes tightly and taking a deep breath, I forced myself to imagine that it was actually Link lying below me as I squeezed all of the air out of my lungs and into his mouth.

At once I noticed was that his lips felt the same – the curves, the contours and the texture – everything was the same as Link's. I threw my head back, hoping that by some unexplained mystery the Fierce Deity had disappeared and that it really was Link… But the god's red and blue markings still lay angled across his face, his white hair no nearer to turning blonde than the moon was to becoming as bright as the sun.

I pressed his chest again, each compression getting more agitated and forceful than the last as I began to lose my composure.

"Come on, damn it, breathe!" My voice seemed no more than a twisted high-pitched screech. "Breathe!"

Still he didn't move. I began to wish that my racing heart would lend some of its beats to the Fierce Deity's motionless form, and that my quickening breath would fill his lungs with the precious air that he was so deprived of.

Over and over I repeated the compressions and deep exhalations until I almost felt giddy. Nothing seemed to be working, and each time I pressed my mouth to his the warmth of his body gradually faded more and more.

"Why isn't this working?" I cried, and like a furious child whose favourite toy wasn't operating the way it should I withdrew my hands and pounded against the cool sheen of his armour. Tears of failure started to drip down from my eyes, and with one last punch I succumbed to the overwhelming sorrow that had slowly engulfed me over the past few minutes.

But suddenly I heard a frantic gasp echo from the depths of hell and through my blurred vision I saw the white of his eyes fling wide open. Rubbing my face and eyes, I drew away the hair that had fallen into his face, as he coughed and choked on his own breathlessness.

As I brought my hand away he snapped his fingers around it, still looking up at the ceiling as he sucked in the air around him in deep and concentrated wheezes. A relieved smile spread across my cheeks before I could stop it. I inwardly thanked the heavens that the worst had been forestalled, and I felt glad that he was safe and unharmed, even though a small part of me felt disgusted by my reaction.

"What," he gasped, "in heaven's name happened?"

"Y-You collapsed," I said, hoping that he would not turn his head to face me and spy the lingering evidence of my tears that still lay on my face.

Without replying he freed my wrist and slowly pushed himself up from the floor. Every movement was trembling and uncertain, and as he slid his feet up towards him he leant forward to rest his head on his bent knees. He brought his fingers round to massage his temples, but instead they landed by his ears. Quickly realising his mistake he shuffled them upwards, perhaps hoping that I hadn't noticed. But he wasn't the only one wanting to mask and erase his weakness, for I took the small opportunity to dry my eyes properly before he looked at me again.

I was at a complete loss as to what I should do next. Instead of there being a mindless whirl of fear gripping the very core of my being, there was now the calm after the storm – a kind of anti-climatic blank that left you speechless and incapable of planning the course of the ensuing moments. My heart was still plagued by the nervous, tumultuous circus of what seemed like acrobatic dives and spins, and I wondered, albeit indulging a rather childish fantasy, whether his heart was beating in the same way.

He hadn't seemed to register that his armour was undone, but I hardly expected him to draw attention to it. I hardly expected him to even acknowledge that I had just saved his life. That was probably far too beneath him.

If it had been Link I would have automatically placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, maybe whispering sweet words in his ear to help soothe the pain, but I knew I could never bring myself to do that now. Fierce Deity would probably shrug it away the moment my hand touched him. He would probably turn around and glare at me with his piercing menace that was still etched in his eyes, his silence being enough to throw my actions into question and make me wonder what on earth ever possessed me to feel the need to comfort him…

But when he suddenly opened up his coiled figure and turned towards me again, he didn't look quite so terrifying as I might have expected him to.

"Take me to a room where I can lie down," he demanded.

Although his voice had lost some of its sting, the tone of his request was just the same as it had been. I swallowed my concern at once, knowing that it would neither further the situation nor help my feelings to settle down.

He looked down at his undone armour and a quizzical look formed on his face. I opened my mouth to explain, but he merely shrugged quietly and re-fastened the straps without so much as a word of enquiry. At that moment I felt slightly hurt that he wasn't going to acknowledge what I had done for him, and his ingratitude renewed my agitated and abrasive temper.

"Of course, your lordship," I said sarcastically.

Rising from the floor, I walked swiftly to the door making no attempt to help him at all. It was only when I began to unlock the latch that I heard him clear his throat rather emphatically.

I turned around with the best indignant look I could manage, initially misjudging his pained features for another one of his frowns. His eyes weren't fully open, as if they were squinting slightly, and he was breathing quite loudly through his mouth. I reproached myself for having been so harsh, and I softened my gaze as I waited for him to finish what he had begun so roughly.

When he averted his eyes, I presumed he must have thought that I felt sorry for him. I felt a smirk rise on my lips. While sympathy was perhaps slightly too strong for what I felt then, it probably wasn't too far off the mark. "It would be kind of you to give me some assistance, princess."

Resisting the urge to make a comment about how the tables had now turned, I returned to his side in silence and extended my hand. He unexpectedly grabbed a hold of my wrist rather violently, almost forcing me down to the ground with him, but I steadied myself and leant backwards in an effort to pull him up off the floor.

As he stood up relatively straight, Fierce Deity groaned and shut his eyes as he rushed his hand to his forehead again. Dreading that he was about to faint again, I tried my best to keep him upright by pushing hard enough against his breastplate, realising that he was more unsteady than I had first appreciated when he latched onto me as well.

We stood there in a rather awkward and clumsy embrace, much closer than either of us really wanted to be, leaning against one another like two collapsed columns that had managed to catch each other in a precarious balancing act so that neither of us would tumble and crash to the ground. His talon-like fingers dug into my skin with a much greater might than before, shaking uncontrollably with his dizziness. Every muscle seemed to quiver with fatigue, and while I used practically all of my core strength to keep him from falling over again, I thought I could hear the faint pounding of his heart beneath his armour.

The hurried rhythms of our breath was the only sound that passed between us, but I knew that I would not be able to hold out much longer like this. My own arms were beginning to lose their grip, and my locked elbows were almost begging to be relaxed and bent. When I was assured that he wasn't going to faint again, I murmured, "Are you all right?"

"What does it look like?" he growled in his discontent.

"What I meant was," I said trying to rein in my own anger, "are you all right to walk?"

"Of course I am," he said unconvincingly.

I sighed. "If you insist." Still keeping the pressure on his body, I took hold of his hand and quickly turned around to face the door. "I'm going."

"Get on with it then."

Replacing his hand on my shoulder, I took a step forward and felt his huge weight force itself down on me.

"By goddesses, you're heavy," I said before I could force the words into my thoughts.

"That's a fault of your own weakness, not mine," he grumbled, evidently not having lost his caustic wit somewhere in the depths of his unconscious.

I bit my tongue to prevent any more inappropriate insults from bursting out of my mouth and slid myself underneath his arm so that it rested against the back of my neck as I held onto the hand that had been supporting him before. I wasn't really sure where I could take him; it was either my room or Link's, and mine was all the way up in the north wing. I would have to take him back to Link's chamber, but even that journey seemed too long and risky to take in his current state. I only prayed that we would not get spotted along the way.

Heaving his weight into a more comfortable position, I started forward again, this time with slightly more ease and less hassle. Opening the door we stumbled out together, walking out of step like two children tied by their ankles who were each running of their own accord.

The corridor was empty and slowly we made our way to the end without too much trouble. We carried on a little further until the Fierce Deity's pace began to slow down.

"Come on," I said. "Only a little further to go."

But the only reply I got was the full force of his body slouching down on my back. I cried out in surprise, craning my head round just enough to catch his eyes fall shut as his head dropped lifelessly to the side of mine. I froze for a moment staggering under his weight, reliving that moment of mindless terror all over again, but I let out a sigh of relief when I felt his breath rasp against my neck. I feared that he might have relapsed into the state he was in before, but it seemed as though he really had just fainted this time.

His breath rolled across once more, tickling my skin in a way that caused an involuntary shiver to go shooting down my spine. Again, I thought of Link and felt slightly happier about what was stirring inside my heart. It certainly didn't help to have him so close, so intimately pressed against my body where I could sense and experience every single movement he made, conscious or unconscious.

Trying my best to ignore him, I cleared my throat and attempted another move forward. But without his co-operating movement I found I could barely take one step. He was just far too heavy and too tall for me to even drag back to Link's room, let alone carry.

I realised that I would have to do something. I was stuck in the middle of the corridor with this great hulk on my back, and if a maid caught me now it would hardly seem very becoming of a princess to have a stranger hung all over her like this.

"Zelda, what exactly are you doing?"

I jumped at the sound of the voice, but knew instantly that it was Impa. I made an effort to turn around and ask her for help, but she was already at my side lifting up Fierce Deity's other arm to help me carry him.

"Thank you, Impa," I said. Wishing that the heat in my cheeks would die down a little, I added as seriously as possible, "We need to take him back to Link's chamber."

"As you wish," she replied, and together we managed to arrive back unseen at the room where this fateful encounter had first started less than an hour ago.

* * *

**AN: Yay, another chapter out! :D But term is starting again soon, so the next update may take a bit longer. I hope you're all enjoying this so far. Let me know what you think! I'm well aware that I might have got a few things wrong at the beginning of the chapter - I'm not trained in first aid or anything, so I'm sorry if that was a rather inaccurate procedure - a little creative license never does any harm! Hopefully it wasn't too inaccurate /.**

**Until the next chapter, Perfect Soldier 01**


	4. Chapter 4: Lying in the Unexpected

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 4 – Lying in the Unexpected**

* * *

Together Impa and I managed to deposit the Fierce Deity safely back in Link's chamber. Dragging him in from the corridor outside, his boots scraped against the stone floor as we hoisted him up onto the bed at the far end of the room. His heavy body slid off down my shoulders with relative ease, falling away from me like water running down my skin, but his large figure lingered closely around the curves of my back for a long time afterwards.

He now lay horizontally across the bed and so we shuffled him around so that he lay correctly, but as the god nearly measured the whole length of the bed frame the lack of space available for this manoeuvre made it an even more difficult task. When his head rested gently over the pillow, Impa and I stepped back and took a deep breath, the exertion having taken its toll on the both of us.

But while Impa seemed to recover quickly, I couldn't shake away the tingling sensation that kept buzzing through my body. She stood straight and dignified, waiting for me to give her an explanation, except I found I couldn't even stop my head from spinning with thoughts I didn't want to confront or fully understand.

I glanced timidly at my nursemaid and then back to the Fierce Deity's sleeping face, wondering where I should begin.

"This wasn't meant to happen," I said hastily, the words being more for myself than Impa.

"I see," she replied simply.

I looked back at Impa absent-mindedly, hardly registering her response at all, and saw instead that the chairs Link and I had been sitting on were still lying on their sides strewn across the floor.

"The chairs…" I muttered, sighing in frustration as I went to retrieve one of them.

While I lifted up the thin, brittle arms and righted them to its correct position, I caught a glimpse of Impa's mouth dropping open a little.

"What happened here?" she said as she bent down to pick the other one up, looking at me with an uneasy anxiety.

"Nothing," I replied quickly. There was nothing I wanted more than to force the events out of my mind, but there wasn't much chance of that happening now.

Impa looked at me as if I was delusional. "I wouldn't call _this_ nothing, Zelda."

We had returned the chairs to their original location, opposite each other at the foot of the bed and in front of the window, but something was stopping me from sitting down. I was standing on the wrong side of the room, facing away from the sunlight that was still streaming into the room behind me. Link had always been the one to sit here when we talked together in his room. I'm not sure how it came to be, but we had, for whatever reason, fallen into a pattern of sitting in the same places every time we saw each other. But whereas he would talk about his grand heroic adventures, I had no great story to tell other than the continuing folly of my own existence.

Blinking away a tear that threatened to escape from my eyes, I swallowed back the memory and started to go over everything that had occurred in the last hour or so. But even as I did so I found myself wanting to shy away from certain details. Looking down and gripping the top of the chair's frame tightly, I omitted the moment when I had leant down to kiss him in the study in an attempt to resuscitate him and bring him back to life, and I skipped over all the tumbling feelings that were churning around inside me, forgetting to mention the way his touch felt both frightening and thrilling at the same time.

It unexpectedly made me wonder whether Link had ever missed out any parts to his stories, whether all he told me was the complete truth or whether he too had some secrets he was hiding. I knew that I was breaking Impa's gaze far more often than the times Link had momentarily looked away from me, and so I felt somewhat reassured about his truthfulness; but nevertheless I was still conscious of Impa's innate and heightened sense of perception. She could always read through the lines when I was lying or beating around the bush with my words. I didn't doubt for a moment that she would easily perceive my uneasiness, and I was sure that my lack of composure was telling her everything that she needed to know about the real truth of the situation.

When I had finished speaking I was waiting for her to be looking at me with her knowing smirk, but she merely sighed and averted her eyes.

"This is indeed a problem," she said raising her head again, "and we only have one week to solve it. You're certain that you can't remove the mask?"

"Yes," I answered. "There are no edges around his face at all."

"And you definitely don't know who he's speaking of?

I shook my head and she too remained silent. We both continued to stand there quietly for a few moments, and I tried desperately to think of something that might answer my prayers and rescue Link from within the confines of his own body. But as the seconds slipped by, every moment that I sat there I felt more helpless and empty than ever before, the imminent hopelessness of all this edging ever closer until the concept of a week completely lost its value. Even waiting until tomorrow seemed too late now. And so before Impa had the chance to open her mouth to speak I couldn't help but surrender to the impending shadow of defeat that was looming right over my shoulder.

"I don't know what to do, Impa!" I cried, turning away towards the window as the tears I had been trying to hold back gradually slid out of my eyes with no difficulty at all. "If we don't think of something quickly then I will never see Link again. I don't want to have to face losing him again!" I sunk my head in my hands and wept. "I _can't_ lose him again," I added in a choked whisper.

Impa came up from behind and turned me around, holding me tightly in her arms as she stroked my hair with her soft, elderly fingers. "I wish I'd never asked him about the mask! O goddesses, why does my curiosity always bring such disaster in its wake? I should have learnt that seven years ago. Damn it," I wept hoarsely. "Damn it all!"

"Zelda, it's not your fault. You mustn't blame yourself," Impa said firmly as she lifted my face up to look at her. "Promise me that you will not continue to blame yourself for this." Her solemn stare was steady and unwavering, almost reminding me of the Fierce Deity's, but it lacked his severity and irritation.

"But this _is_ my fault. I was the one who asked Link to put the mask so close to his face; it was I who started this whole mess!"

But Impa wasn't going to play the kind mother today. "Listen, Zelda," she said with a rising anger lingering in the back of her voice, "a princess cannot let herself become so distraught over something like this."

"_Something like this?"_ I wanted to interrupt her and correct the way she had phrased her words, but she carried on swiftly allowing no time to argue back.

"Think back to how you reacted when Zant invaded. You tackled that crisis head on and did what was best for your people. The sheer scale of that whole endeavour cannot even begin to be compared with this. Zelda, I understand that Link's life is at stake here, but you must calm down and think about this rationally. From what you've told me, it appears as though he is unaware of his situation in both time and locality. You need to make him understand that and then come to some sort of compromise."

I nodded quietly, my head barely seeming to move up and down under my own control. She smiled and kissed my forehead.

"You must not let this get the better of you. You're stronger than this."

At that moment the Fierce Deity moaned in his sleep. Both of us turned to look at him, but my head shot round much faster as I felt a fast-approaching anxiety start to throb inside my throat. I half expected him to be sitting up, peering at me with his menacing grin and waiting sarcastically to be told what he apparently ought to understand.

Thankfully he was still lying on his back, his chest slowly rising and falling in time with his breathing. I let out a small sigh of relief, but when I sensed Impa's gaze rotate round to me again I instantly regretted it. My cheeks started to blush with embarrassment, and while I inwardly cursed their spiteful punctuality I kept my eyes fixed in front of me and pretended that I hadn't noticed. I could only see her in the outer fringes of my vision, so Impa's exact expression wasn't very clear or particularly visible, but I imagined that she was likely to be looking fairly bemused. I thought I saw her eyes narrow suspiciously, but she turned and walked toward the door before I could confirm anything as she evidently decided against pursuing the subject any further.

"Well," she said cautiously, "until he wakes up, I think the most important task in front of us at the moment is to inform the servants of what is going on. I will go and re-organise their duties and put a stop to any rumours that might have already started flying about. For the time being though, don't let him out of your sight until I return. If he wakes up, you cannot let either one of your tempers get the better of you. You must try and find out as much as you can about him - only then will we be able to proceed in finding a way to save Link."

With that she closed the door and at once the room felt smaller and more constricting. Returning to the foot of the bed, I sunk down in the chair and sighed. I closed my eyes for a while, holding my face in my hands before I returned my gaze to his sleeping form. I hoped that I would be able to have some time to untangle my thoughts into some coherent and comprehensive order – a little while to myself so that I could try and decipher the altogether alarming feelings that were beginning to make themselves known inside my heart.

But there he was, sitting bolt upright on Link's bed, grinning at me just like I had imagined he would. I gasped and jumped in my seat, looking away immediately to hide the irritatingly persistent blush clinging to my cheeks.

"Good goddesses!" I breathed. "When did you - ?"

"Wake up?" he interrupted. "A while ago. Probably soon after you half-heartedly dragged me in here."

I shut my mouth before I could retaliate. Watching him swing his feet over the side of the bed, I became very aware of him rustling the sheets and the way his armour glided smoothly across his body as he moved. How could I not have noticed him sit up? Only moments before he had been lying practically comatose even after he had moaned in his sleep…

"But what was that just now then?" I asked, realising that he couldn't possibly have been sleeping if he had been listening to our entire conversation.

He scoffed at my naivety. "I had had enough of your small moment of drama and I wanted to get the old lady out."

For a moment I wondered why he would do such a thing, but that was one comment I wasn't going to take lying down. "That 'old lady'," I growled, "happens to be my most trusted advisor, and you will treat Impa with the proper respect she deserves, thank you."

He put his hands up in mock defence. "Now, now. What did she just say about controlling that temper of yours, princess?" he taunted, making no effort to hide his sarcasm.

The Fierce Deity stood up, albeit a somewhat unsteady ascent to his full height, looming above me like Death Mountain itself. Even in his state of exhaustion I quickly felt like I was a small child again, cowering fearfully in front of the imposing figure of my father, my hands fidgeting in my shame and my feet huddled awkwardly together, ready to recoil from his harsh words and crouch down in my own misery. But whereas the impending threat of a punishment never truly emerged from my father, the Fierce Deity didn't present the same sense of potential relief at all. I had been lucky before in the study, but I knew that I wouldn't be so fortunate this time now that he wasn't so chaotically immersed in his own rage. Yet this change made him appear more noble and dignified, and for the first time I felt truly humbled in his presence.

He took a step forward, wobbling very precariously on his weary feet. Frightened that he might fall again I rose to go and help him, but he waved me away angrily.

"Sit down" he said with a persisting irritation. "I don't need _you_ to assist me."

I stood still for a moment, tentative and unsure about the bravado he seemed to be putting on for the sake of his own pride, and watched him advance sluggishly toward me until he firmly planted his feet only a few inches away from mine. His grimace was still tightly knitted in his face but there was something different about his expression that I couldn't quite describe, almost as if he looked more understanding than usual.

Without saying a word he placed one hand on my shoulder, his warm fingers curling around my bones before he forced me back into my chair. I blinked in surprise at his sheer lack of manners and sat there stunned and incredulous until I heard the chair opposite me creak and groan under his weight. I don't know what I had expected him to do, but my guess had inclined more towards him walking out of the room again than sitting down next to me. However, that sense of relief lasted only for the blink of an eye.

"So, princess, I hear you're trying to find a way to get rid of me?"

I froze instantly as both my mind and body went numb. He wasn't towering above me anymore, but this would be the moment when his hand would strike across my face, unleashing the vicious reprimand that he had been waiting to set loose ever since he had unexpectedly lost the opportunity only a short while ago. I didn't even dare to turn round and face him. Instead I found my hands had clasped themselves together in my lap and my toes were recoiling inside my shoes. My whole body was hunched and primed in a tense and almost contorted sense of panic.

"Listen," he said.

I waited for him to continue but he stopped, probably realising that I was too scared to even say anything at all.

He suddenly pushed his chair back, the wooden legs screeching so horribly against the stone that I winced and shied away from whatever his fury had in store as he lunged toward me. Seizing my arms he hauled me up again and jerked me round so fast that his menacing glare seemed to spin in a dizzy circle around my eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he barked, his grip on my upper arms contracting in his fury. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips as I struggled to lift my averted eyes. His rough hold slackened at the noise, and only then could I bring myself to look at him. His mouth was parted slightly, his eyebrows un-knotted and loose in a look of near pity. Something inside him had unexpectedly stopped enjoying my dread.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my voice nothing more than a faint, coarse whisper.

He appeared a little dumbfounded, but shaking himself out of this strangely unnerving gentleness he cleared his throat and began again. "Listen, I don't take kindly to those who try to end my life. If you don't want me to finish you off after I've had my revenge, I would suggest not trying to do that again if I were you." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I would like to know one thing though," he said heavily. "If you're so hell-bent on getting rid of me, why didn't you let me die in your study?"

An awkward pause descended in the small space that separated us from each other. I thought he might let me go then, but his hands remained as secure as the iron bars of a prison. I was trapped in his grasp, although there were short fractions of a second when I thought I could feel his fingers tremble nervously against my skin. The soft lining on the palm of his gauntlet glove brushed my arm in minute, hesitant strokes, and with every single sensation there rose a familiar but unwanted feeling of almost intoxicating suffocation.

"I…" I began, but instantly felt unable to finish.

"You love him, don't you?" he said flatly.

"What?"

"You love him, the man underneath this mask. Is that correct?"

I couldn't quite believe what he was telling me. "H-How do you - ?"

His hands dropped and returned to his side. "I am perfectly aware of whose body I am possessing, princess. This is the same boy, the same _life force_ who donned my mask and harnessed my power in order to defeat Majora. But you must understand that he was only a child then. He was weak and he was young, and I still have one more foe to bring down: the man responsible for condemning both Majora and I to this living hell, trapped forever inside this incarcerating mask. I never thought this opportunity would come, that the day would arrive when someone so powerful would put on my mask. I knew the boy had great potential, but I never imagined he would possess such incredible might. Now he has the strength to help me carry out my last wish, and I won't let go of that power until I've accomplished my vengeance, no matter what trick you try to pull. He is still alive out there, I know he is, so stop trying to protect him by feigning ignorance."

He turned away, walked to the side of the bed closest to him and sat down with his back to me, leaving me standing there in the middle of the room completely speechless. I sat back down feeling disorientated by his words as I took some time to fully comprehend them.

"How do you know these things?" I asked, my thin and confused voice still barely audible.

He turned around to face me, his mouth set in a straight, uncompromising line, his eyes steady but subdued. He no longer appeared frightening or intimidating, and somehow I found myself holding his gaze with a light-headed feeling of utter weightlessness. The blank, white eyes I once dreaded were pulling me in, dragging me closer and closer toward that ever-changing multitude of strange thoughts rolling around inside my head.

For a small moment I imagined that I saw Link's face rise up behind him, gazing at me with that sweet, understanding and reassuring smile; but then another second passed and when I blinked the Fierce Deity's distant stare had returned. I couldn't sustain the image any longer than that, and my heart was too full and exhausted to even take notice of the faint redness that fluttered briefly in-between the Fierce Deity's jagged, scarlet markings when he opened his mouth to speak.

But someone knocked at the door and the loud noises immediately tore away his answer from my ears.

"Zelda, it's Impa," she said. "Are you all right? I'm coming in."

As I stood up to greet Impa the Fierce Deity turned his back on me again, his words now completely lost in the intrusion.

"Zelda, a messenger has come from the Castle Town and he wishes to speak with you. He is waiting for you in your study. Do you need me to…?" she trailed off, but I knew what was going to end her sentence.

I glanced briefly at the Fierce Deity, but he soon felt both of us looking at him.

"A promise is a promise, princess. I'm not petty enough to break it. Go and attend to your duties," he said bluntly.

A small, grateful smile graced across my lips, the first, I realised, that I had had ever since Link had disappeared this afternoon. Without saying anything in reply I took Impa's hand and led her outside. Leaning briefly against the door, I took a deep breath and attempted to resume the closest thing to a royal guise as I could before I walked back into the mundane reality of the world.

"Goddesses, give me strength," I prayed.

* * *

**AN: Sorry this has been so long in coming. I was planning to update this time last week, but I kept finding myself wanting to change certain parts and make them better. But here it is, finally. I hope you enjoyed it! I realise that this chapter may feel slightly repetitive, but I promise that the next chapter will step up the pace in Zelda and Fierce Deity's relationship! With the end of term coming up and deadlines to meet I probably won't be able to update again until sometime in July, but I hope that you'll stick with this story even though it's taking a long time to write!**

**Until then, Perfect Soldier 01**


	5. Chapter 5: Wandering Thoughts

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 5: Wandering Thoughts**

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The thought of a messenger from Castle Town made my step a little quicker. Amid this whole catastrophe I had forgotten that he would be arriving soon with a progress report on the town's rebuilding and the redevelopment of the castle. I hurried on with a gathering excitement, eager to hear how the construction was coming along.

It was a difficult situation. Without the town, the people that had been protected by the Castle's keep were in a very vulnerable position. Monsters were still roaming the plains, and with most of my military resources spent already, it would have been a difficult and time-consuming effort to evacuate them anywhere much further than Kakariko Village. Ordon was deemed too treacherous a journey, and while the Zoras and Gorons had been very generous in their aid, they were also suffering and could hardly accommodate such large numbers of people who needs were so very different from their own. Those who were able had stayed behind to help with the construction, and so far there had been promising progress, albeit a fairly modest amount.

"Are you sure we should be leaving him alone, Zelda?" Impa said.

My thoughts somewhat unwillingly returned to the Fierce Deity. "I trust him," I replied, but I realised quickly that I only really half-believed my words now that I had been separated from him.

Impa grunted quietly, evidently still uncertain about my decision. "If you say so, princess."

Just then we passed the spot where Impa had caught me almost collapsing underneath the Fierce Deity's huge weight as I attempted to walk him back to Link's chamber. Containing my reaction was not as easy as I might have hoped; a red blush quickly worked its way up to the surface of my cheeks. I bit my lip in silent humiliation.

Walking a little quicker, I resisted the urge to let the ghost of his heavy body shiver inside my skin. Yet the endeavour of diverting my thoughts away from him only seemed to make it easier for those fresh memories to have free access to every one of my senses. They buzzed through my entire being, slyly evading every attempt I made at reining them in, flying out of my grasp. After taking a deep breath I managed to suppress them a little, but I knew that they were still there, hovering inside me somewhere, lingering quietly as they waited to reappear again.

Turning down the next corridor, I came to my study door. Recollecting myself, I prayed that I would be able to concentrate on the messenger's words instead of indulging my fancy. Pushing the door open, I saw him standing beside my desk. He turned around and stood to attention while I tried my hardest not to look down at the floor where I had knelt beside the comatose god.

"Good afternoon, your majesty," he said with a bright and merry ring.

I had expected them to send a younger man. Nearly every report that had been delivered here had been carried in the hands of a newly qualified ensign or lieutenant, usually not much older than myself. A simple job such as relaying information was often too tedious and unimportant for the senior officers to concern themselves with, but this messenger was roughly middle-aged and from his numerous regalia I guessed that he must be at least a major, if not a colonel. The younger ones were not half so friendly and easy in my presence, often rushing through the information far too quickly due to their nerves. At least this one would be able to string together two sentences without apologising.

"Good afternoon," I replied, forcing my eyes to look straight ahead. "Please, have a seat."

I walked towards him with the intent of bring completely objective and unfeeling about what had happened in here earlier. With every step I felt a small moment of triumph, and for a moment I deluded myself into thinking that these bubbling emotions were merely a fleeting and passing consequence of having Link disappear and having that monster of a man take his place.

But I felt myself growing overconfident; my eyes began to wander, daring me to think about the Fierce Deity and goading my averted eyes into taking one small glance at the floor. The room was large, too large to keep my eyes looking forward. In front of me the messenger was busying himself finding a chair and sitting down; to my left the last of the afternoon light was pushing through the window in sporadic bursts as clouds passed over the sun; to the far right the fire was blazing behind the iron fireguard. Candles lined the walls at intermittent points, flickering slightly as they caught a small breeze that had escaped from the chimney. My gaze travelled from one thing to another, and without thinking I looked down.

A fleeting sensation of his lips against mine rose inside my mouth, but before I caught myself savouring the memory, I realised that this entire room was alive with small but obtrusively obvious signs of our skirmish. I almost felt like I was walking into a crime scene: the tassels at the end of the rug were all skewed and crooked; the material of the rug itself seemed to be crawling with ruffled marks where we had pushed the fibres the wrong way with our feet. I hadn't even rearranged my desk from when the Fierce Deity had thrust it aside with a single swipe of his hand. It was still at a slight angle, no longer in the centre of the room but further toward the right wall. Nothing was as it should be. Everything was tainted with his presence.

"Has it been a busy couple of days, princess?" the messenger asked innocently, motioning his head toward the array of papers strewn across the table.

"Y-Yes, it has been quite busy around here lately," I answered hastily as I reached my desk. _Chaotic_ perhaps would have been a much more accurate adjective, I thought.

"Well, I hope that you will find this report pleasing. Everyone has been working hard to get the houses back up. And the clinic," he added with a chuckle, "We mustn't forget the clinic. That's been the cornerstone to our entire operations. We can't keep building if our men are getting sick. Yes," he mused, "the old doctor has been a key player in all of this." He paused for a moment with a content expression on his face, mulling over the achievements of his colleagues. "Right then, enough about that. I had better be getting on with my report."

He then stood up and proceeded to give a detailed summary of everything that had been happening recently in the mainland. I listened intently to his report, and my hope of some considerable progress was satisfied quite steadily as he continued speaking. Even though the rest of the room was staring me in the face, the messenger certainly much it much easier for me to concentrate on his words. In between the occasional drift back to the centre of the room, his slightly eccentric personality kept my eyes relatively fixed. He was certainly an odd fellow, but it was nonetheless pleasing to hear that matters were coming along smoothly.

"The soldiers have even cleared all the rubble out from the castle's grounds, your majesty, and so we'll be able to start rebuilding your home very soon," he continued.

I looked briefly out of the window and down the valley. In that small sliver of landscape, the mass of buildings scattered across the once neatly cobbled streets didn't look as though it was any more ordered than it was when I had last journeyed down there. But I knew that I couldn't possibly judge its improvement from up here, regardless of how much I could see from my window.

"Master Link's statue has also been completed, your highness. The sculptor worked long and hard on that piece of work. I'm sure the young hero will be most pleased, and your majesty as well, of course." He laughed again, scratching the back of his head with his hand.

"Oh good," I said happily.

The mention of Link's statue was enough to briefly push the Fierce Deity out of my thoughts. I could still remember the amusing couple of hours that I had spent watching him pose while the sculptor had taken down some preliminary sketches.

"In fact, your majesty, I know that this might be asking a bit too much, or it might not be my place to say, but the men and I were hoping that you and Master Link would come down and see it for yourselves sometime. Now I understand if you're busy up here, but it would mean an awful lot to everyone. It'd give them a good boost to their morale, you know?"

I smiled in return, wondering whether seeing Link's face, even if it were cast in stone, would boost my morale too. But that hope was immediately cut short by the thought of having to coerce the Fierce Deity into accompanying me. Although he had promised to stay put for now, I didn't think that I would be able to trust him to stay in the manor for an entire day without some sort of supervision.

Sighing inwardly, I resigned myself to the task of sorting out his dilemma before I started thinking about my own desires. I still needed to think of something I could do to prove I was going to help him, no matter how fruitless the results might be. Then it hit me. I could go down to Castle Town and issue a nationwide search for this man _and _carry out my own wishesat the same time.

"Yes," I said firmly, my smile growing wider. "I think that would be a very good idea indeed. In fact, I'll return with you tomorrow morning, if that's acceptable. My attendant Impa will arrange a room for you this evening. It would be far too dangerous for you to return today." I glanced out the window. "Not only is the sun nearly setting, but it also seems as though the snow has started again"

His face lit up with a boyish charm. "Oh, thank you, your highness, thank you!" He clasped my hand and shook it gratefully with both of his. "Everyone will be most pleased. If arranging some quarters for me is not too much trouble, I would be most gracious of your hospitality." He bowed deeply.

With the report finished we made a move toward the door. Impa was still standing outside, waiting for her duties to commence. As she led the messenger away to a room at the opposite end of the manor, hopefully with the minimal amount of risk in encountering the Fierce Deity, I returned to Link's chamber happy that I would be able to show him how useful and co-operative I was being.

I knocked softly on the door and called out to him inside. I expected a low grunt or for him to abruptly open the door, but I was met with silence. I knocked and called again; still I received no reply. I suddenly thought that he might have fainted again, that he was lying half-dead on the floor with no one to help him. I opened the door without another word, but it was completely empty.

The chairs were exactly where we had left them; Link's bed covers were still creased and ruffled from where Impa and I had hauled the Fierce Deity up to rest his head against the pillow. Everything was exactly how I had left it; the only thing missing was the god himself.

My anxiety increased tenfold in the single blink of an eyelid, and I rushed back out into the corridor. Half walking, half running, I hurried through the manor with no particular agenda other than to catch the smallest glimpse of his white hood disappear around a dark corner, or hear the heavy thud of his trudging step echo down the hallways.

I didn't stop for any of the passing servants, and I saw many a bewildered stare turn and follow me as I whisked past them. I went to the kitchens, the library, everywhere I thought might be a logical place for him to go. I even went back to my study, all to no avail. I looked out of every window, but nothing would let me come any closer to finding him. Returning to Link's bedchamber empty-handed, I slammed my fists down against his windowsill, tears of defeat hanging precariously over my eyelashes, waiting for me to take a sharp breath inward and declare myself desperate.

"Impa was right," I muttered. "I was stupid to believe him."

I looked up, peering hopelessly out of the window. He was nowhere to be found in the manor and I didn't know where to begin looking out on the mountain. It wasn't yet dark, but the sunlight was fading quickly. The snow was also falling thick and fast again, nearly obscuring my vision entirely.

But just then in the faint twilight of the evening, in-between the falling snowflakes, something dark flickered in the distance. My eyes latched onto it immediately and I leaned forward, my nose almost touching the glass as my breath blew hot circles below. At first I thought it might be a swarm of keese, but the shape was too large and uniform for it to be a pack of creatures, and it was moving in too steady a direction.

I had to go and see what it was. Without thinking to fetch a cloak, I ran down to the back doors leading outside, gripped with so painful a desire for it to be the Fierce Deity that I could barely breathe.

Lifting up the large wooden latch, the old gateway flung open as the wind caught it, sending it crashing back into the stone wall. I winced briefly at the noise, but the cold chill in the air soon took its place in assaulting my senses, slapping my bare skin with its icy fingers, and piercing my thick winter clothes as though they were made of the thinnest summer muslin.

I could still see that dark figure further up the mountain and I trudged through the snow as quickly as I could. It was much deeper than I had anticipated. Every muscle strained itself to even lift my feet up and forward, the wind and snow sapping my strength with an increasingly rapid acceleration. All of my movements became heavy and sluggish, the sensation being not all that dissimilar from having the entire weight of the Fierce Deity bearing down on my back.

Failing to lift one foot high enough, the toe of my boot caught itself in the snow and I quickly fell forward into the cold fist of the snow. Landing with a resounding wet smack, I struggled to get up before my dress became completely soaked. I put a hand out to steady myself, but that also fell through the snow the moment I exerted any force on it, causing me to fall back down once again.

"Hey," a deep, muffled voice called out, "Hey!"

His voice seemed to exist above me, tending toward no particular direction. The soft crunch of his step grew quicker and louder before he seemed to skid and plunge down on his knees beside me. Large hands then seized my shoulders and side, rolling me over out of the snow. They were gentle yet warm and firm, reassuringly safe amid the clutches of the frosty northern wind.

Focusing my gaze, I first saw that the man was wearing Link's winter cloak. It was the colour of the deepest tree bark, trimmed with the golden embroidery of the Hylian crest.

"Link!" I whispered in relief.

I started up and reached out with my tired arms, clasping my hands around him before I really had time to think about what I was doing. "N-No, Zelda," he said pushing me away. "Look harder."

Those four words possessed a strange mix of concerned irritation, but it was difficult to discern the finer timbres of his words in the howling wind. Focusing my gaze, I finally recognised the strange red and blue markings on his face along with those infinitely blank white eyes.

My mouth dropped in fright and I looked away. "I-I'm sorry!" I stammered. "I thought you were – "

"Yes, I know that," he interrupted. "What in heavens name are you doing out here?"

I blinked in surprise. "I might ask you the same question! You promised me to stay in the manor," I said as my arm shot out towards the building behind us.

"I tried," he said, but before my temper could cut in he carried on. "But I found myself wandering out here up to one of the cliffs." He paused as he caught my indignant expression. "I _was_ going to come back, you know," he added indifferently.

"And how was I meant to know that?" I snapped. "You could have disappeared into who knows where for all I knew. Don't _ever_ do that again!"

But for all my severity, a sneeze took hold of me just as I had finished.

"You should go back inside," he said, sweeping away all my harsh words into a pathetic concern over my health.

"I'm not leaving unless you come as well," I answered.

He sighed reluctantly. "Fine," he grumbled. "Get up then."

He rose with ease and stood there waiting for me to join him. Link's cloak billowed out behind him in the wind, lending him a regal air of importance. It transformed him into an even more formidable and imposing man than before. Yet for all the power and strength that he seemed to possess, that moment also rendered him as someone in need of company. Perhaps it was the downturn of his face or the forlorn look in his eye, but as he stood there facing the wind and the snow, unblinking and unfazed by the elements, I couldn't help feeling that he was lonely.

I looked away for a second, making sure that my hands were steady enough to push me up off the snow; I didn't want more cause for ridicule than there already was. Shifting my weight onto my hands, the snow didn't feel as though it would give me any trouble this time, but when I looked forward again my hands almost slipped out of surprise. There he was, standing at my feet and offering me his hand.

I hesitated. Any logical reason why he might stoop so low to help me, of all people, completely escaped me. I tried deciphering the look in his face, which was tilted ever so slightly, as though his eyes might be averted. His mouth was set in a grim line, but as I looked closer I thought I could see the same faint redness filter into his cheeks like it had before.

His fingers wavered faintly. The last thing I wanted to do was cause offence, and so before he withdrew them I reached out and clutched his hand tightly. As soon as I was upright he let me go and moved to the side. The deed was quick and unfeeling, an obligation rather than an act of kindness. I was left alone to steady myself, not really knowing what I had expected from him but nevertheless feeling a little disappointed.

Taking a step forward, I soon became very conscious of my wet dress clinging around my hips and the back of my legs. Turning away from where I thought the Fierce Deity was standing, I peeled the folds away as quickly as I could, not wanting him to notice the outlines of my figure. I knew that he might not even be looking, that he probably wasn't, no, almost certainly wasn't allowing himself to think about me like that. I wasn't even sure why I would care, but for my own peace of mind I straightened out my dress as best I could.

At that moment, something was hung around my shoulders. It was Link's cloak. I withdrew my hands from my dress immediately and timidly gathered it around me, clasping my fingers together across my chest. I did not dare to look behind me. I was too cold to tell whether my cheeks were flushed or not. The cloak was still full of the god's warmth, and it filled me with a strange satisfaction. I shivered, but whether it was from the chilling damp of my clothes or as a reaction to the heat I couldn't tell.

It was only when he lifted his hands off the top of my arm that I realised they had been there all along, lying secretly in the layers of cloth, feeling and living every move that I made. Wanting to explain myself, I finally found the courage to turn around and face him, but he had already started walking down the mountainside, my humiliation seemingly none of his concern.

I hurried down behind him like a wandering child would run after their parent, afraid that they might get lost if they didn't keep up. Hopping in and out of the steps he had already pressed down into the snow, I was soon at his side. He took no notice of me, his eyes always facing forward, never faltering even when I fell a little behind trying to keep up with his stride. Still, I had to say something.

"Thank you," I said with quiet clarity.

He paused before he spoke. "You need it more than I do," he answered simply.

"Well, thank you all the same."

Silence descended between us once more. It was his weapon against my unease and my awkward approaches, but I was determined to persist with the conversation. I still had to tell him about tomorrow, and nothing would be more welcome to me now than a change of topic.

"I spoke with the soldier that came to see me just now. I have some business I need to attend to in Castle Town tomorrow – "

"You don't need to bore me with your duties, princess," he said trying to cut in.

" – and," I said, resuming my sentence, "I need you to come with me so we can issue this search order."

We had reached the door of the manor. "_We_?"

"Yes," I replied as I turned the iron handle and opened the door. "We."

"Why do I need to come?" he said as we stepped inside.

"You still haven't told me what this man looks like, you know. I can hardly go by myself without this information. We will be leaving first thing in the morning, so make sure that you're ready. I will be coming to fetch you myself, so _please_ stay in your room this time."

He merely grunted and we walked back to Link's chamber in silence, ever mindful of servants roaming the hallways. As he followed behind me, I couldn't help thinking that the roles of master and mistress were forever shifting between us. It was obvious that he couldn't stand taking my orders. He enjoyed intimidating me, tearing down every one of my defences as soon as I had barely hammered in the last nail, and being brazenly forward about everything that might embarrass me. Yet in spite of his pride, I think he knew how dependant he was for my help.

For the time being I walked in front of him, but I knew that, given the chance, he would want to be the one leading me. He was barely half a step behind me for the entire journey back to Link's chamber, always holding back just an inch or two. When we arrived, I waited at the door and watched him go in, praying that I would be able to find him here again tomorrow morning.

"Impa will bring you some supper soon," I said, and he mumbled something like a 'Thank you'. Just as he was about to close the door, I caught it in my hand.

"One last thing," I asked, half smiling. "Where was it that you went just now?"

He raised a sceptical eyebrow and leaned casually against the doorframe, slowly folding his arms into a posture of guarded secrecy.

"Why? Are you going to send a servant out looking for me next time? Keep me on a leash like a dog?"

"N-No," I said quickly. "Of course not. I was just…curious."

Raising his head, he looked down at me out of narrowed eyelids, his mouth as unyielding as it was before.

"Never mind," I said hastily, too tired to keep enduring his tricks. "Good night."

I turned to go, wishing that I could be back in my room, alone with my thoughts and away from his prying eyes.

"The cliff," he said calling after me. "The cliff that looks down the valley. That's where I went."

"Goodnight," I said again, not wanting to dignify his answer with a response.

"Goodnight princess," he answered, the smile in his words ringing clearly through my ears.

He shut his door and I let out a sigh mixed with relief and exhaustion. "He thinks it's all a joke, an amusement to pass the time," I muttered angrily. "Well, he'll get what's coming to him, I'll make sure of it. Dear goddesses, how am I going to last a week in his company?"

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**AN: A nice long one this time. I probably could have split this chapter into two, but I felt that a break would have been too disruptive. I also wanted to get this first day finished and out of the way! I hoped you liked this one. I tried not to make the whole messenger meeting too boring, so I hope that worked! Next chapter will be out soon :D. Until then, Perfect Soldier 01**


	6. Chapter 6: Change of Heart

**AN: Some scenes in this chapter may be unsuitable for young readers. It's relatively safe, and I've tried to keep it as clean as possible, but don't say I didn't warn you!**

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**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 6: Change of Heart**

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I hugged him tightly, the top of my head resting in the curve that extended between his neck and chin, secured safely in his arms. Clutching his green tunic with my bare hands, my fingers curled around the forest-scented material. I closed my eyes, inhaling his beautiful scent and listened to the gentle rise and fall of his chest reverberate through my bones. His familiar earthen smells reminded me of a time before the chilly darkness fell across Hyrule, before the Twilight confined me to a life of solitude and subjection, when children played freely in the plains outside the town gates and when summer seemed to last for the entire year. Now I no longer felt frightened or uneasy. I was completely encompassed by his presence and that persistent ache of longing had finally subsided.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," I replied, lifting my head up to look at him.

I wanted to continue and say 'I never thought I would see you again,' but somehow it seemed unnecessary. Here he was in front of me, as real as I could ever hope him to be. Instead I smiled and thought about how much I had missed seeing his face. His features were softer and more approachable. His brows weren't knitted into a constant frown and his mouth wasn't growling in a tight grimace. His untamed golden hair still fell into his eyes every now and again. To me, it was an everlasting reminder of his rural airs and upbringing, the trait that I probably loved most of all.

Guiding a stray strand of hair back to the side of his head, the tips of my fingers brushed his brow with the most fleeting of touches. They lingered there, hovering around his temple, slowly falling to his cheeks where they almost touched the edge of his mouth. He smiled back and turned his head into my palm, nuzzling and kissing it briefly before our eyes met again with a look of equal understanding. Guiding his face back to mine, our lips glanced across each other for what seemed like the first time in years.

It was supple, more so than I remembered, but as our warm breaths melded into one, we regained our old, playful, unfaltering rhythm. I felt his warm exhalations run across the side of my face, and, when our mouths were otherwise occupied, roll down my cheeks until it cascaded over my jaw line.

My hands swung round his neck and pulled the back of his head closer, creeping inside his hood. Together they eased it onto the floor before beginning to rifle through his golden hair. It made me remember the times I used to play in the long bulrushes near the river as a child. I would pass my hands through them as I ran in the sunshine, stopping every so often to briefly roll the tips of each one around in my fingers in a moment of innocent and childish fascination. Sometimes, if there was a breeze that day, I even knelt down near the water's edge and let them sway over my face.

My smile grew wider against his mouth as I was able to contemplate the happiness that still clung to the fringes of those memories. They seemed to exist half a lifetime away, sealed away with the ghost of my childhood seven doubled years in the past. But he was the one that still kept the hope of recovering what we had lost alive. He was the one keeping me steady in this world of increasing chaos, and even now he held me fast, with one hand steadily pushing the small of my back into his abdomen while the other rested at the nape of my neck.

Something brushed shyly against my legs, but as the folds of my dress were duly negotiated, I soon felt the heat from his thigh pass through our clothes. Shuffling forward, he inched me back until the hard edge of my bedpost knocked against the back of my calves. I opened my eyes and pulled away briefly, unsure about what he meant. He caught my gaze with an easy and calm expression as he pressed my head back into his chest. Kissing the top of it, he murmured, "I love you," into my loose and unclasped hair.

My breath caught in my throat as those three words drifted lazily into my ears, erasing any doubt that might have dwelt in the back of my mind. I knew that I had heard them before, but nevertheless I found it difficult not to laugh and cry at the same time. Holding his face in my hands, I pressed my lips against his again, whispering against his smooth skin that I loved him too.

He then leant against me so much that both of us went hurtling backwards, sinking promptly into the bedcovers and sandwiching me comfortably in the middle. I nearly cried out in surprise, but the force of him being so completely near me made me lose my breath. The cool press of the chain mail underneath his tunic moulded itself around my bodice, and all I could hear was the soft stretching of our clothes before our mouths found each other again, and burrowed through our faces and our smiles.

His tongue circled the inside of my lips before tentatively twisting around my own, like a young boy holding the hand of his sweetheart for the first time. I could still remember the time we first held hands, even though it was in less than romantic circumstances. He had grabbed my wrist without hesitation as we fled Ganondorf's falling castle, but the cautious lacing of our fingers was fresh in my memory as they first slid down to my palm and then, finally, catching each digit in his rugged, battle-worn gloves.

But now there was no uncertainty, no indecision. He seized my arms and brought them down beside my head, clasping my hands tightly in his. The weight of his body suddenly seemed to increase, dwarfing my small frame even more than before. Now there seemed to be an invisible wall between the very outlines of our bodies, a barrier separating us from each other. Even the feeling of being suffocated beneath him would not satisfy my growing desire to be part of him, fused and shaped into one being.

One of his arms dug down into the covers underneath me, arching my back into a curve. Our tongues parted and he began to bite down on my lip. I gasped, letting my head fall backward in rapturous pleasure as his teeth sauntered across my exposed skin, nipping my neck and chest in hot, short kisses.

His other arm strayed across my left leg, his large, encompassing strokes eventually persuading me to bend my knee. My skirts tumbled down my thigh in front of his hand, bunching into a soft pillow before he dove underneath, reaching up inside my dress to cradle the naked flesh of my hip. As soon as his fingertips glossed over those uncharted territories as yet untouched by a man, I moaned with delight and opened my drowsy eyes.

At that moment I wanted nothing more than to slide out of my dress and feel those hands rush all over my tingling body. I called out his name softly and looked down fondly at his golden head. But when I saw those moonlight strands of silver shielding someone else's face against my breast, I suddenly felt afraid, and every shred of desire instantly fled my overwhelmed body like a startled flock of birds. A stranger rose up from the very edges of my neckline and the red and blue fangs on his face stood out like fire, his eyes as bright as the sun.

A cruel, possessive grin hung over me as his face readily plunged into mine, greedily devouring my mouth like a piece of meat, biting so hard that tears were squeezed out of my eyes. In the fleeting reprieves of the frenzied dance he initiated inside the defenceless confines of my lips, small drops of blood were dashed against my tongue and soon all I could taste was a metallic nausea. My head began to swim with panic. I pushed against him, hit his back, cried out for help, anything that might stop this carnivorous monster. But every sound was swallowed up by his ravenous hunger, drowned and swiftly forgotten, and every raised hand was soon caught and held down, his single fist imprisoning both my arms behind my back.

His nails bore into my skin, clutching my flesh and puncturing it with his angry talons. I felt a small sense of helpless relief when he withdrew his prowling hand from my dress, but that minute hope in his mercy was soon shattered as I heard the screaming tear of cloth being torn in two. The violent wrench of his fist against my skirts pulled me further beneath him until our faces were level. He lifted his head, but his hot, ragged breath poured down on me like a plume of smoke, choking every sense with his proximity until it was numb with the arresting force of his presence.

I turned my head away, whimpering like a child, trying desperately to wriggle out from his grasp. But my arms were still chained together by his unrelenting grasp, and when he pinned me down with his full weight, the memory of us holding hands was quickly replaced by the repressed claustrophobia of the collapsing castle I thought I had forgotten. His sweat started to drip down onto my cheeks, and every blood-curdling bead felt like one of the falling boulders that had plummeted down to the floor only inches away from me. That time we had managed to escape from the grave that had kept trying to pull us into its fatal grasp, but now there would be no glimmering light at the end. There would be no final door to pass through, and I would be buried alive by my own weakness.

I finally heard my own cry as he ripped my skirts away completely. All the while he fumbled with the buckle of his belt, but I could already feel what was waiting for me.

"You're mine now, princess," he whispered menacingly in my ear

It was then that I woke up, and somewhere, in the depths of my unconscious, I heard the faint echo of a scream.

I started up feeling light and unrestrained, almost like I didn't weigh anything at all. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I desperately looked around the room, wanting to prove to myself that the nightmare was nothing more than the perverse invention of my own vicious imagination. A grateful sigh escaped me when I found that it was completely empty. The only movement was from the small flickering candle standing silently on my desk at the opposite end of the room. But even with the reassuring confirmation of his absence, the traces of his presence did not disappear so easily.

Every fibre in my body was shaking, still haunted by the ghosts of desire and utter disgust. As I felt something like a tear slide down my cheek, I realised that my forehead was damp and clammy with sweat. The thought suddenly occurred to me that it might not be my own, and I quickly looked to each side of where I sat. Another muttered prayer of thanksgiving passed my lips when I saw that no one was lying beside me.

Sinking back down into my pillow, I wiped my forehead and laid my arms across my chest in exhaustion, my breath continuing hard and heavy in the night air. I could still feel where his hands had been, what the Fierce Deity had claimed as his own. No matter what I wanted so desperately to believe otherwise, it could not have been anyone else, I was sure of it. The image of his face looming above me was still as clear in my memory as everything else. I could not have been mistaken.

Shivering from both the cold chill in the air and a persisting revulsion, I drew my covers around me, eventually finding a tear to shed for my bereaved sense of pride and decency. Huddled in my own wretchedness, I turned on my side, drew my knees close, and wept.

I wanted to blame him, to put the Fierce Deity at fault for causing this agonising ordeal in the first place. But the harsh reality of my guilt soon placed me under its unrelenting scrutiny. The full extent of my feelings then dawned on me, and the tumultuous sea of embarrassed and appalled anxiety calmed into a serene ocean of punishing clarity. Somehow, against every power of my better judgment, I realised that I had fallen in love with the Fierce Deity.

I knew that to fall in love in the space of a day was ridiculous, impossible even, but I also knew that I couldn't delude myself any longer. My concern for Link had unknowingly mutated into an awkward regard for the Fierce Deity. I wasn't sure whether my own heart was confusing the two men, but every feeling of affection that had been reserved for Link and Link alone had also been unintentionally grafted clumsily onto the god's cold and brutal heart, entangling every shy tenderness with a mighty fervour.

Suddenly I found myself wondering when Link had disappeared in my dream and when the Fierce Deity had emerged, and whether or not I had secretly enjoyed the new and pleasing sensations that had coursed through my veins only moments ago. I blushed, trying to force myself back into my old way of thinking, that the Fierce Deity was nothing more than an enemy and an obstacle in the way of my happiness with Link. But it was useless.

Even in his rash and angry moments, each mannerism reminded me of Link and the way he behaved. His considerate nature this evening when he had given me his cloak, the faint but deep colours in his cheeks, the lively rivalry in our arguments… I couldn't help but feel that Link was in there somewhere, deep down in the god's consciousness, guiding him somehow in his actions. Maybe that was why I felt so strongly about him, because they were essentially one and the same person. The Fierce Deity was simply another mask, another form that he had accidentally fallen into, like the wolf of the Twilight Realm. I shook my head. It probably wasn't that simple, but it was enough for me to be content with.

Shifting under my blankets, I realised that the imprints of his hands had subsided a little. My skin had grown calmer and more subdued, but it still wasn't enough for me to feel comfortable about re-entering the risky territory of whatever the night had left in store for me. For the first time I noticed the pale light of the morning dawn break through the gaps in my curtain, and I decided to set about preparing for the day ahead. It was probably not long before I was due to wake up, and it would not be long until I would have to go and fetch the Fierce Deity for our journey down the mountainside.

I felt a little nervous about having to approach him after what had passed through my mind, but at the same time a small portion of lost confidence had been restored. I wouldn't have to constantly worry about what feelings were running through my heart, and nor would I have to put up a front of indifference.

Fetching a clean dress from my wardrobe, I started to think about the last thing the Fierce Deity had said to me before we parted for the night. When he had spoken of visiting the cliff that looked over the valley, I knew instantly what he was talking about. I had taken a walk up there many times, often to bring Link in for dinner or other matters that required his presence. He had taken to sitting there on the days when the weather was fine, perched on a flat, weathered stone, contemplating nothing in particular, or so he told me. Even so, I was always sure that something had been nibbling away at his mind for him to spend so much time out there.

It wasn't an easy cliff to find either. Due to the snow constantly renewing the holes in the ground, there was no beaten path and no obvious trail to show him where to go. It had certainly surprised me when he revealed the familiar location, but at the same time it made me even more certain that Link's consciousness was alive within the heart and mind of the Fierce Deity. I was sure that, had Link not been guiding him, he would have never have felt such an urge to leave the manor.

As a smile rose up within me, the hesitant anxiety began to disappear, and when Impa called at my door it was with a happy and renewed hope that I walked down the corridors. I knocked neither too loudly nor too timidly on his door, and waited expectantly for him to answer. It was only when I was met with a repeated silence that I started to feel a distinct sense of déjà vu from the previous evening.

But as I twisted the handle and found the room empty once more, I kept my panic at bay. Instead of feeling alarmed by his disappearance, my emotions swayed heavily in the direction of disappointment. He had broken his promise to wait for me. The only response I could muster was an unimpressed sigh and a slight hanging of my head.

However, Impa evidently did not share my reaction. "Where is he, Zelda? Where has he gone?" she said, the distress in her tone seemingly exaggerated by my lack of response.

"I know where he is," I said flatly. "Please make my apologies to our travelling party. It seems that we might be delayed a little. I won't be very long."

"Princess?" she replied uncertainly, but I had already turned towards the staircase that would take me to the outside gates.

"I won't be long," I called over my shoulder again, most likely leaving Impa rather bewildered and confused by my nonchalant answer.

I only hoped that he was in the place I thought he was. Otherwise I really would be in trouble.

"Honestly," I muttered to myself, "he's like a small child who can't sit still." Then with a wry smile, I silently added, "I might have to invest in a leash if he's going to keep running away like this…"

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**AN: Slightly shorter than the last chapter, but I hoped you liked it nonetheless. I'd be really grateful for some feedback on the tone of this chapter. Scenes like the above are sometimes written excrutiatingly badly and can be very cliched, so I would be grateful if you could tell me what you thought. Future chapters won't be quite so intense and physical in the romance, but if this chapter doesn't read well then I'll know for next time. **

**So, until the next chapter (with more fluff on the horizon!), Perfect Soldier 01**


	7. Chapter 7: Behind your Eyes

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 7: Behind your Eyes**

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The air was fresh and crisp, the light pure and unfiltered. With no clouds yet casting their shadows upon the mountainside, I almost had to pause and wait for my eyes to adjust to the bright morning sun. I shut the doors behind me and narrowed my gaze, surveying the landscape in front of me, searching for the footsteps I hoped would be standing deeply in the white, crunchy surface of the earth.

A small pang of fear drummed through me as the snow in front of me lay flat and undisturbed. Perhaps I had been too hasty in assuming the Fierce Deity's whereabouts, but I waded out a little further to make sure I wasn't wrong. I soon caught sight of a trail starting to run parallel to my own, and the long, mistakable stride of the tracks put my mind at ease. I was surprised to find that the path had come from the direction of the stables and armoury, and I pondered for a moment the somewhat unlikely possibility that he had gone to make some early preparations for our journey.

But as I stopped and followed the path with my eyes, I noticed that each footprint was pressed rather neatly into the snow, with a little part of the wall crumbling at either end where his foot might have lifted itself out. I could even see the little, jagged indentations on the soles of his boots, rising up like miniature mountain ranges in the curve of his heel.

The thought suddenly struck me that they didn't really seem like the footprints of a god. I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting them to look like, but I imagined that they might have looked a little more chaotic and disorderly. I quickly found myself quite enjoying the sense of surprise and discovery in this small moment, and I smiled as I felt a warm glow begin to rise inside my chest. Out of sheer curiosity I placed my foot gingerly beside the ghost of his, taking care not to upset the delicate balance of the snow. Mine was about two-thirds the size of his, perhaps a little more.

I suddenly realised what I was doing when I caught myself red-handed in the small pleasures of affection. Feeling a twinge of embarrassment at my silly outburst, I started to walk on. This morning's task was already running late, and I shouldn't be standing here playing childish games on my own. I had a kingdom to rule.

Still, after a few steps I cast a brief look over my shoulder to make sure I had not disturbed his footprint. A strange sense of satisfaction filled my heart as I glimpsed the two sunken patches of snow standing side by side in a quiet harmony. A small smile tugged at my lips, but I pressed on and instead let the image settle fondly in my memory while I contemplated what I was going to say to him.

I followed his path up and round, occasionally down before another quick ascent, gradually winding my way round the mountain. Up I climbed through the newly formed streaks and strands of the low, ethereal cloud, before finally reaching the top of the peak where Link always used to come and sit out his thoughts.

As I weaved round the small, final stretch of the path, I stopped a moment. The thick snow began to soak through my boots, and it creaked underfoot as I shifted from one foot to another. But the prospect of wet feet was the least of my troubles now. At that moment I could have shouted and he would have heard me. I was only metres away from where the path would curve round and unfold into the little private sanctuary that Link and I had discovered, the place where the Fierce Deity now lay in wait for me.

Slightly fearing the last few steps I had to make, I took a deep breath and trod down inside his footprints to save my boots from getting any wetter than they already were. But I found myself starting to adopt the same stealthy creep that I would often use when approaching Link. It had initially developed from a desire of not wanting to disturb him, but it had often descended into a bit of a game. My years impersonating a Sheikah made it fairly easy to keep my step quiet and light inside someone else's tracks, but now I felt a certain degree of trepidation in my approach, and the only sound I could hear was the rasp of my own breath growing more nervous as I edged closer.

The cliff's edge curled round sooner than I had hoped. It spread out before me and I saw the Fierce Deity's frame rise up around the corner against the morning sunrise. He was sitting with his back turned, perfectly still on those old weathered stones, and his white-clad figure was a bright pinnacle in the pale oranges and purples of the dawn sky. The only movement was from a small breeze that swayed against his cap every now and again. His dark armour almost looked like the pupil of an eye, and I wondered momentarily whether he had already noticed my approach.

I quickly pressed myself against a small niche in the nearby rock, feeling a welcome and relieved safety in the familiar recess. I had often waited here for Link, watching him silently for a few precious moments before making my presence known. Ordinarily I would call out and go straight to him, but sometimes the silence was so severe that I felt like I was trespassing into his private world of contemplation. I would wait for a sigh, a birdcall, something that would break the heavy weight of his thoughts and allow me to enter in.

During those times I would have tried to guess his thoughts or what had brought him all the way up here, but more often than not I had to invent thoughts for him before I was overtaken by a dreadful fear that he wanted to go back home. I was well aware that on a clear day you could just see the fringes of Ordon Wood peering back at you on the horizon, but he would never tell me what was bothering him. As it transpired, I would often do my own bit of thinking up there, mostly, truth be told, about our argument that day when I had ended up ordering Link back to his home in the forest.

The Fierce Deity still hadn't moved, so I waited, leaning back against the smooth curve of the rock. Another lump of timidity formed at the back of my throat, but I knew that I wasn't so much afraid of him as I was of my own feelings. I almost felt compelled to love him the same manner I loved Link, to touch and talk with him in the same way. But I had to remember that, no matter how alike, their reactions to such warmth would be completely different. For all I knew the Fierce Deity might not even be able to feel things like love and affection.

"You can stop hiding, princess."

I almost jumped at the sound of his voice, but it took me a moment to realise that there seemed to be something lacking in his tone.

"Come and sit," he said simply.

When I peered round from where I had supposedly concealed myself, I found he was standing with a very strange expression on his face. I would have said it was unnerving with those empty, white eyes beckoning me forward, but I couldn't help but be drawn in by it, and my feet started to move without my authorisation.

He didn't stop looking at me until I was at his side, when the whole of Hyrule had laid itself out underneath me in the glorious vista that awaited us. The early hour of the day brought everything into perfect clarity and precision, bathing the land below us in a soft, golden wash of light as the sun began its ascension into the heavens. Snowpeak paled away in the perspective, the sheer height of the cliff opening one's vision to the farthest corners of the kingdom. The sheltered valley of Kakariko lay at the foot of the mighty Death Mountain, merging with the wooded horizon of Ordon, while the shimmering waters of Lake Hylia glistened in the distance. Even the vast plains of the abandoned Gerudo Desert could be seen from here. A wave of pride surfaced in my veins as I surveyed my lands. It was truly an awesome sight to behold.

"So _this_ is your kingdom?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied. "This is Hyrule."

"It's an impressive country."

"Thank you," I said, a little wary of his praise.

"It's much bigger than what I saw at your window." I nodded silently, unsure what to make of his conversation. "Termina is a lot like Hyrule, you know," he continued. "We've got a mountain, a forest, a big central field… The only difference is that… it's by the sea."

He sunk down into the stone seat and hung his head somewhat despondently, his last words falling away from his voice like the tide of the ocean itself. I tried to discern the look on his face, but his locks of white hair obstructed my view. I sat down tentatively beside him, but the only thing I could see was the grim line of his mouth, down-turned and desolate. My fingers started to move toward his, my thumb reaching out to stroke the back of his hand reassuringly, but I stopped myself just before he turned to speak again.

"I once ruled a great kingdom like this," he said, his face still obscured. "Before I came to know Termina, I was king of a far away land. Time has since erased its name, but I can still remember it in all its glory. It was a great kingdom, but not half so beautiful as this."

He lifted his head, his voice carrying a wistful, almost nostalgic tone as he recalled an age long since past. He seemed to be trying to feign a mood of peaceful tranquillity, but I could feel the swirling currents of sorrow circulating under his words. Looking back on times gone by had been a far too frequent past time of mine in the last few years, and I was well rehearsed in recognising the symptomatic emptiness in one's words.

"I would like to have seen it," I said comfortingly. "Hyrule is indeed beautiful, but you see it now in a state of reparation. These lands have seen their fair share of bloodshed and persecution, I'm afraid. It's not half so beautiful as it used to be."

"You don't know anything of bloodshed, princess," he said with an abrupt agitation, but I wasn't about to let myself descend into an argument.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're too pure," he muttered.

I almost laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shifted in his seat and snapped his head round with a sudden menace in his eyes. My humour shrunk away immediately. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to scare me or whether he was testing me, but I watched him with a tense anticipation

"Have you ever killed someone, princess?" he growled solemnly.

The low, grittiness of his words made me shiver. "No," I said.

"Have you ever watched someone die?"

The thought of my father leapt into my head, but the intensity of his stare made me falter. "Y-Yes," I stammered, but my answer didn't convince him.

He had sensed my hesitation, and he leant forward, grabbing my arms roughly, and demanded the question again.

"Did you _see_ them die? Did you watch them being killed with your own eyes?"

His accusing proximity was too much for me to take in. His hands were surprisingly warm and I could feel the heat of them underneath my cloak. They rested there confidently in the whirl of the moment, but I soon felt them begin to stir restlessly as they grew unsure as to why they had stayed there so long. All the while I was silent with no answer, his stare stopping all rational thought.

Taking a sharp breath, I forced my eyes to break his gaze and the whole sequence leading up to my father's death came rushing to the front of my head. Firstly there was that horrible, wailing, elderly scream that had echoed through the castle the night Ganondorf had commenced his coup-d'état. I had been fastened onto the other end of Impa's arm, running frantically through the hallways to the stables, her tight grasp never slipping for a moment. The sheer withering frailty of the noise had chilled my very soul, and I would never forget that horrible, horrible scream for as long as I lived.

I had been running past a window when I turned my head briefly to glance at what remained of the courtyard below and saw instead the defeated and stooped figure of my father on the balcony. He was barely standing, his loose, grey body torn and shattered by the fighting. I had tugged hard at Impa's arm, doing my best to stop and wave at him, to let him know where I was, that I was safe… As I had cried out through the glass, I thought I had seen him smile at the sight of me.

But in one swift dive, he had rushed forward and collapsed over the side of the stone wall, hanging there like a dead puppet with a great bloodied sword rising out of his back. A huge man in black appeared behind him out of the flaming curtains and ripped the sword out of its weak and supple pedestal. A laugh as terrible as my father's dying moan cackled across the courtyard before I witnessed the stranger kicking the remains of my father over the balcony, leaving him to plummet to his death.

The long-shunned feelings of overwhelming grief mounted themselves up inside me as high as the peak I now sat on, and I could feel the tears rising in my eyes. The Fierce Deity's hold lessened as my breath became ragged with regret, but it was only when a tear fell from my eye that he hastily removed himself.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I have made you remember something unpleasant."

I blinked, surprised by his apology, but tried hard to suppress the first throbs of sorrow from stealing away my composure. It took all the courage I had to look up at the Fierce Deity again, but when I did I was puzzled by his expression. His mouth was slightly ajar with a look of almost unexpected horror, and his brows were furrowed in a line of near disbelief. I also noticed that his arms were still hovering in mid-suspension, as though they were reluctant to return to his side.

"It's all right," I said with a feigned smile. "No need to worry about me."

"I wasn't worrying," he said gruffly as he shyly withdrew his arms. Looking back out over the valley below, he sat up tall and defiant in the sunlight as if to prove a point. "I know what it is to see a loved one die," he mused. "It is a harsh and cruel reality. You're almost struck with disbelief. You think that they can't have been alive one minute and then dead the next. You think that life can't be that fragile." He paused before letting his shoulders slump in a resigned sigh. "But it is, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

A silence descended between us as we both dwelt upon those we had lost, but somehow it did not feel like one of awkward isolation. I kept an eye on his expression, all the time cautious to maintain a façade of intrigued indifference in an effort to safeguard my concern from his scepticism. I was surprised that he was divulging so much information about his past, but in some unknown capacity I believed that we had grown closer as a result, united in our shared grief.

"Who was it that died?" I asked eventually.

He slowly turned to face me once more, his dejected head tilted at such an angle that his solemn eyes bored down into my heart. At that moment an uncanny feeling of having seen the same expression before overtook me. It had been Link's face, on this very spot. I wanted to raise my hands to my mouth in fright, but the Fierce Deity had already reached out and touched the side of my face.

"She was someone like you," he said gravely, rolling his knuckles over my jaw line. "Stubborn, headstrong even, but pure. She knew what she was getting herself into. I told her many times that following me would only lead to her death, but she came anyway. She died by my hand, but I had no choice."

My cheeks grew hotter and hotter with every word that left his mouth. His skin was rough and soft at the same time, his touch barely seeming to graze my skin yet being so inexplicably present all in the same moment. I never imagined that he could be so gentle and caring, and for a moment I almost forgot how he could be so utterly coarse and aggressive. Link's tenderness had truly surfaced within him, and every one of the Fierce Deity's actions drove me into a deeper state of longing to return his touch.

But as I looked into his eyes, I realised that he wasn't actually looking at me at all. He was staring at his own hands, and I watched his softness dissolve into near hatred.

"You cannot imagine the amount of blood that has been split by these hands," he said, holding them before him in disgust. "My entire kingdom bathed in its own blood for decades before the fighting ceased, and it was all because of me. I created a country out of the dead bodies that rotted in its fields, and I was proud of my achievements. I conquered kingdom after kingdom, each one falling at my feet in a humiliated surrender before I trampled them all over again. I was ruthless and I had no mercy. I was king of an entire continent, and yet here you are," he said almost incredulously, "sitting beside me like I was just another human being. How can you sit there so quietly knowing that these hands," he said thrusting them out in front of me, "could crush you in seconds?"

He held them there like he wanted an answer, but he sighed again and let them fall into his lap. Feeling a little bold in his moment of disbelief, I couldn't hold back my feelings any longer. I took hold of those instruments of destruction and held them tightly. His gaze followed my actions curiously and his fingers wrapped themselves around mine quicker than I expected.

"I am not frightened because these hands have saved my life," I said, still trying to digest the fact that we were both willingly holding each other's hands. "These hands may bring great destruction in their wake, but I believe that they are also capable of great goodness."

"What proof do you have of that, princess?"

"Well, the man underneath your mask is a good man. He has fought to keep Hyrule beautiful and has conquered the evil that stood before him, and…" I paused and looked up to gauge his reaction. "I think you're more alike than you might realise," I said carefully.

For a fleeting second I thought I saw faint circles of black and blue appear behind his eyes, but I blinked and it was gone again. He grunted and slipped his hands out of mine to hold my wrists.

"If you had seen what these hands had done, I don't think you would think so highly of them." He spoke with that familiar nostalgic hue, but with a renewed coarse bitterness. "I was sealed inside this mask because of what I had done. All that strength, all that wealth and power… It all counted for nothing in the end. My empire crumbled at the hands of one man. Just one man, that was all it took to bring me to my knees."

He paused and let me go, letting the words dwell in the air uncomfortably. I thought of Ganondorf and Zant and how they had nearly crushed the lands of Hyrule into the ground, until Link had single-handedly stopped both of them in their tracks. I shuddered as I tried to imagine the Fierce Deity in their place, but I still couldn't picture him storming through the castle doors as Zant did, nor could I replace Ganondorf's dark, foreboding armour behind my dead father with the Fierce Deity's white tunic.

"I know the feats capable by your hero," he continued, "but it's men like him that become the bane of my existence. I took control of him not only to use his power, but also to prevent his intervention. And you", he said roughly, "it's people like you that…" he stopped again as he broke my gaze, "…complicate things."

He had spoken with as much care as I had dared to venture when I compared him to Link, but he didn't look to see how his choice of word had been received, something I was very thankful for. The word "complicate" kept repeating itself inside my head, never staying still long enough for me to work out what it really meant, but the way my heart kept bouncing like a ball against the walls of my chest was enough to fill me with a strange and puzzled hope. There was something beginning to change very rapidly between us, that much I was certain of.

I noticed him biting his lip, almost as if he regretted having started that last sentence. I almost wanted to answer him and say that he too had complicated a lot of things for me, but somehow it seemed inappropriate.

"I'm sure you've been told about Majora by your hero," he said, quickly altering the mood.

"Yes, I have," I replied hesitantly, wondering where his next train of thought would take us.

"He was my greatest foe. Every gain I made was for the purpose of defeating him. Both of us longed for the same thing: incomparable might and eternal glory as the greatest warrior ever known. Even though he was a beast, he was a formidable enemy, both of us gods in our own right. Our wars raged on endlessly, each of us never succeeding in conquering the other. I wanted the armour that lined his back, and he wanted my lands. We were both defeated by a foreigner, that single, unassuming man and his wretched drums."

"Drums?"

"Yes, he was a musician, much like your hero," he said resentfully. "He killed Majora first, and then he came after me. He made each of us dance until there was nothing left of us. He made masks out of our remains, sealing our powers away forever. I lay dormant inside that damned prison for what seemed like an eternity. But I always knew Majora was nearby, I could feel it. I don't know what happened after my death, but both Majora and myself ended up in Termina. Some stupid, lonely forest monster had come and taken Majora's power for himself, leaving me helpless. I feared he might destroy me when I sensed his power growing, but he kept me alive long enough to face me honourably. Your hero put on my mask and, well," he sighed, "you know the rest."

"Why did you let Link take off the mask then?"

"His power wasn't complete. I knew it had great potential, but it wasn't yet all that it could be. It wasn't enough to defeat that damned drummer, wherever he might have been. So I waited and bided my time. After seeing what kind of strength lay inside the mask, I knew that he wouldn't let it out of his sight."

"But he might not have put it on again. You took a big risk in letting him go back then," I said, unsure why my words sounded so anxious.

"I did, but it paid off." A small smirk graced his lips. "There are some times though," he said, his tone lapsing back into a cautious timidity, "when I wish I hadn't let him take off the mask."

"Why is that?" I asked curiously.

"Because then – " He stopped almost immediately, his composure anything but steady. "It's only sometimes," he started again, but that attempt fell to equal dissatisfaction. "Damnit!"

Then, spinning round violently, the light in his eyes burst into a raging blaze with an intensity I had never seen before. His hands shot up to my face, and before I could steel myself against the impact they had whirled round the sides of my neck and hauled me up to his mouth.

His lips were hot and hungry, but not quite as aggressive as I the ones I had dreamt of. Barely having time to breathe, I gasped and sighed heavily against his skin, and I think both of us shivered as a result. Something in the back of my mind told me that kissing the Fierce Deity was wrong, but I was so overwhelmed by his caresses that I couldn't help but reciprocate his actions.

As soon as I started to fall into his rhythm, he pulled me closer, edging me forward as his hands moved down my body. Finding the catch to my cloak, he unfastened it and flung it off my shoulders, the chill air hastening me into his arms. I clung to his chest and felt his heart thumping underneath my palms as he rose up for air.

I opened my eyes and rested my forehead against his, both of us smiling and panting with a dizzy exhaustion. But as I raised my gaze, the eyes staring back at me didn't belong to the Fierce Deity. The blue irises from before had come into their full colour, and I almost screamed out of horror. They were Link's eyes, staring back at me out of another man's face, a man I had just kissed to my heart's content.

I scrambled away from the Fierce Deity, a frightened whimper escaping from my mouth. A confused scowl knotted his brow, and I immediately felt like I had betrayed and deceived Link, my disgraceful infidelity having penetrated the very core of his being.

"What's the matter?" he asked innocently.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I cried. "Please forgive me!"

But the Fierce Deity stood up and knelt down in front of me, his reproachful blue eyes suddenly receding back to white as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

"No, I won't," he said firmly, "because you have done no wrong. I can't deny the feelings I have for you any longer, and I'm sorry if I offended you, but it's plain to me that you have the same difficulty in hiding your feelings." Straightening his back, he still rose up above me even on his knees. "I barely feel like I exist when I love you," he breathed, and the sincerity of his words made me tremble.

"Dear goddesses," I sighed submissively into his mouth as he kissed me again.

He started to coax out my desire once more, but I found I couldn't surrender myself quite as easily as before. My responses were feeble and distracted, but I couldn't stop wondering if the Fierce Deity knew his eyes had changed colour. My reaction had shocked him, but his behaviour hadn't changed like I thought it might. He seemed completely oblivious, and if Link was truly conscious of what the Fierce Deity was doing, I wanted to believe he would make some effort to stop him from touching me in this way.

But the god continued kneading my back like before, inching me forward as his thighs pushed my knees underneath the raised stone seat so that he could press me flat against his torso. My resolve grew weaker and weaker until I finally gave up trying to obey my guilt. I pulled his head down harder against mine, running my hands through his hair. But as my thumbs rolled round in front of his ears, I felt something rough and sharp scratch against my palms. Following the lines blindly a little further down, it suddenly dawned on me what they were. It wasn't any wonder he said he felt like he almost didn't exist, because these lines were the edges of his mask.

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**AN: Hi everyone, sorry about the delay! I've been on vacation. I hope you liked this chapter - I really enjoyed writing it! I reckon I've just about gone past the half way point now. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed _White Eyes_ so far. Your support has been invaluable :D. If the Fierce Deity seemed a little out of character in this chapter, I was trying to emphasise how Link was beginning to surface in his personality (as I hope I've made clear in that last bit!), so hopefully it didn't jar too much with the rest of the story. I tried my best to keep a little bit of his violent edge in there, but I didn't want him being too aggressive at this point (that's all still to come! ;D)**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll try and get the next chapter out asap, but I'm going away again for a few weeks, so it will probably be another 3 or 4 weeks until the next update. D: Sorry! Until next time, Perfect Soldier 01**


	8. Chapter 8: Hidden Truth

**AN: Hello again, everyone! Sorry about the delay there's been in getting this chapter out. I just realised that I failed to point out a few things in the last chapter. Chapter 7 talked a lot about the extra chapter in the _Majora's Mask_ manga, so I would recommend having a look at it. Also, the part when Zelda was thinking about the argument she had with Link was an incident in **_A Time Once Lost_**, the story preceding this one. Just thought I ought to clarify that before we moved on. Anyway, without further ado, here's the next chapter! Enjoy :D**

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**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 8: Hidden Truth**

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I started to panic; I didn't know what to do. Here lay the opportunity I should have been waiting for: the chance to end this nightmare and save Link from the clutches of the Fierce Deity. It would be so simple to curl my fingers around the edges of his mask, so easy to wrench it away from his face before he realised what was happening… My palms kept scraping against its sharp border as he kissed me, teasing me with the sheer straightforwardness of the action, almost daring me to go through with it. I could have Link back within a second, and everything could revert back to normality in one swift motion, one decisive pull, and one moment of unwavering certainty.

I kept them poised against his face as I ran through in my mind what I might do, waiting for the most appropriate moment to strike. If I truly wanted to succeed, I would have to open my eyes and move my head back at the same time I pulled the mask forward, grabbing it as fast as I could. The movement would have to be quick and smooth – no fumbling, no second chances.

Moving my hands into a more suitable position, I cupped his cheeks and made sure my fingertips lay just before the outline of the mask's surface. From there it wouldn't be too difficult to dig my nails underneath and pull away, but the continual alteration of his features made it difficult to keep my grip steady for any length of time. With every rise and fall of his mouth and every twist of his head, I couldn't help but brush the thin line of his mask with the pads of my fingers over and over again, and no matter how hard I tried, I strove in vain to avoid it.

At this rate I would be drawing attention to it, and if my hands remained there I would be in danger of alerting him to his own loss of control. My hands had lingered against his jaw line for too long, and in an effort to keep up appearances I moved them away from his face altogether until I found a better opening. But they slid down too quickly for me to be completely convinced by my own subtlety, and they nearly clamped themselves round the nape of his neck out of nervous haste before I corrected myself.

I cursed my blundering incompetence, praying to the heavens that he wouldn't notice. My heart then froze as the Fierce Deity allowed himself to pause for a moment. My greatest fear at that moment was that he had realised what I had discovered. Our heads were close, so close that our heavy breaths merged into one warm, dizzying cloud, and I could feel myself trembling inside his arms. I didn't dare look him in the eye or turn away for fear of revealing my guilt. I could guess very easily how he would react if he knew of my intent, and I could see in my mind how he would throw every feeling of love and affection away in an instant, replacing them with a scornful, seething hatred without even the smallest regret. That quick, tempestuous temper would spare me no mercy, and I didn't doubt that he would try to read my mind if he sensed something was wrong. I didn't know how he had this peculiar talent for guessing my thoughts, but I could not give any other explanation. After everything that had happened this morning, I couldn't risk losing it all now.

It was in this brief moment before he pulled away to look at me that I became determined to dispel any feeling of hesitation. I felt him begin to withdraw, but I stopped him from leaving by leaning completely against him and returning his kiss to the fullest extent I could offer. Locking my elbows around his neck, I dove deeper into his mouth and resolved to bide my time a little longer. His breath briefly shuddered across my cheeks as if he was surprised by such a response, and his absent hands seemed to be in a momentary stupor, but he soon stepped back up to the challenge.

Every muscle suddenly came alive and active, and in one fell swoop he had hoisted me clean off the seat, letting my knees sink slowly down into the wet snow while he sat back on his heels to better accommodate for my lack of height. Keeping me pressed close to him at all times, I shivered again from the sudden chill as I felt the sensation of the snow melting into my dress start to mingle with the flourishing glow deep inside my stomach. Completely moulded into his frame, he pushed me back and shuffled closer, rising back off his ankles and arching my spine across the stone that was still warm with traces of my body heat. We proceeded blindly, never once breaking the contact between our eager lips. Our only guides were our heaving chests knocking together as we lowered ourselves down, fluttering together as inconstantly as two butterflies, neither one willing to be parted from the other.

As soon as my head could rest comfortably against the rock he took my hands from behind his neck and placed them on the seat beside me, closing me entirely inside his embrace. Images from my dream suddenly became very vivid in front of my eyes, but I soon became very aware of how they weren't accompanied by any feeling of fear or anxiety. Somehow I felt at ease by his touches, even though they were as ravenous now as they had been in my imagination. But before I could dwell on it any further, he finally severed his mouth from mine and let his lips continue down my cheek until they reached the open flesh around my collarbone. I gasped as he left me free to breathe, but more so at the successive incisions his teeth were attempting to make on my skin. Clutching his fingers tightly in mine, I cast my eyes to the sky unafraid, utterly defeated by my own longing.

Every action was restricted, every sense overwhelmed. I couldn't even start to contemplate an attempt to unmask him now. Not only had he rendered me completely immobile, but every caress made me realise just how cruel it was to let him love me in this way and then turn round and snatch his life away. I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do it. The very thought of it became repulsive to me. I had promised to help him find this mysterious musician, and if I took his mask off now I would, essentially, be spitting selfishly in his face. I couldn't and wouldn't do it, at least not now.

But the very thought of my promise reminded me of the very reason I came up here in the first place. With an embarrassingly stark clarity, I blushed as I imagined how Impa must still be waiting for us to return.

"Dear goddesses!" I breathed anxiously.

The Fierce Deity ceased his attentions to my neck and looked up abruptly, clearly puzzled by the lack of pleasure in the tone of my sigh. For a moment we only looked at each other, our chests still pounding against each other, and his breath still pouring softly down on my face, rekindling the fire in every cell that his lips had been acquainted with. It was almost too much to bear, and as much as I wanted him to continue, I forced myself to suppress every feeling of rebelling against my duty.

"W-We must be getting back!" I stammered, trying to catch my breath. "Everyone is waiting for us."

His features dropped into an expression of sudden recollection. "Damn it," he muttered, sitting back on his heels.

As his hands slithered reluctantly out of mine, I felt very cold and incomplete as he started up off the ground. Remaining still for a few moments, I watched him leave my line of vision as everything began to filter through my memory. I could barely believe that it was all over. Every lucid feeling was now just a piece of information being processed inside my head, detached from its heated and complicated reality, and free to resurface at any moment. Just as the sun flickered and danced behind the irregular windows in the increasingly cloudy sky, so I found myself remembering the most seemingly insignificant flashes of detail before they became swallowed up by another memory. The fleeting curls of his eyelashes; the smooth, liquid texture of his tunic in comparison with his sturdy, battle-worn armour; the thought that I would have liked a collar to hold onto and pull down; how different it felt to run my hands through his coarser, thicker hair... All these thoughts were rapidly succeeded by feelings I found too dangerous to pursue, and in turn they were stamped out with as much speed as they appeared.

But there was one that refused to be locked away in the dark, and whenever I tried to smother it with another, more pleasing image, it burnt through again and again, scorching the edges of it like the very mask that had invaded his face. Every time I tried to recall the exact events leading up to me discovering his mask, I was gripped by a terrifying uncertainty. The longer I dwelt on it, the sooner I realised that I hadn't felt anything else relating to his mask at all. The mask I had examined yesterday had been smooth and polished, its surface hard and rigid; but he had remained lithe and elastic, and every fibre of his being had been beating with an undeniable energy. I couldn't possibly have imagined it all; I couldn't have forced something like that into existence, yet everything else seemed swayed to the contrary.

Then Link shot back into the equation, unleashing an even greater horror than before. If it had all been a figment on my own fancy, I couldn't bring myself to think about what he must be feeling now. Even though I couldn't say for sure how far his consciousness extended inside the Fierce Deity, it was entirely possible that he would have seen and felt me kiss his jailor with more passion than I had ever given him. I felt utterly ashamed, and wished that I hadn't made the decision to return his kiss. What was worse was that I had enjoyed it. Link had never been so bold in all our time together, and while I had been very content and happy with his affection, I had never known that it could be so wonderfully aggressive. Even now my lips were still throbbing, and while the Fierce Deity still couldn't see my face, I wanted to allow myself the indulgence of a coy smile.

But now I felt wretched and disgusted, and as I began to regain a greater sense of control over the rest of my thoughts, an unregulated sense of embarrassment took over. I stood up with an awkward self-consciousness as I went to fetch my discarded cloak, and I wasted no time in pulling the heavy cloth around my shoulders. But I accidently grazed the fiery trail he had left behind on my neck, and as I ran my hand absentmindedly across it I remembered the shivering sensation that had run down my spine. No doubt his marks would be clear for all to see in a matter of hours, and I regretted not having brought my scarf to hide them away.

Taking a deep breath, I turned round to face the source of all my guilt. He had crossed his arms and assumed a tall and upright stance, which made me feel even more worthless than I already was. I cowered slightly as I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze, but his expression kept changing from one that almost bordered on predatory to another that held something altogether more laboured. I didn't want to try and interpret what it meant, but I hoped that he was feeling the repercussions of his actions.

Without attempting to reach for his hand, and without thinking what would even be appropriate after such a fervent realisation of our feelings, I walked past him and started heading for the passage that led back down the mountainside. I checked to see that he was following me, but otherwise I prayed that he would leave me and my turbulent thoughts alone.

He eventually caught up with me and walked at my side, but I appreciated his silence, and it was only when narrow passages enforced us to walk in single file that his hand rose up to press my right shoulder-blade forward, affording him the chance for his fingers to linger against the back of my cloak and fall away down the curve of my spine as he let me go in front of him.

We continued like that all the way down the mountain until the manor lay almost at our feet. I took the lead as soon as I could and trudged through the heavy snow towards the stables, making sure that my cloak's hood was pulled tightly around my face and concealing any possible sign that might betray our tardy return. I could see Impa waiting for us outside in the stable courtyard, and a sigh of relief escape my lips.

She greeted us with a smile, albeit while making sure we knew how much of a delay we had caused. The Fierce Deity continued in his silence, evidently not amused by her friendly reproach. He merely nodded and disappeared straight into the stables without as much as a word to either of us.

"Well, I see he hasn't improved at all," she said sarcastically. "Go and attend to your horse, Zelda," she resumed in her more familiar tone. "She's been saddled, but I know how you like to check everything over. I'll go and fetch the rest of our party from inside. We must leave as soon as we can."

"Of course," I said. "I'm sorry for taking up so much of the morning."

Impa smiled again and handed me my purple scarf. "You might want to wrap that around your neck, princess. There's a bitter chill in the air."

She then turned and walked back into the manor, leaving me slightly torn between feeling stunned and grateful. I had taken care not to look at her directly, but I would surely receive a lecture later if she had managed to see through the shadows of my hood.

Quickly retreating into the stables, I nervously fixed the scarf into place. I didn't see the Fierce Deity inside, but that was of no concern to me now. Walking straight towards my mare's stall, I entered the familiar enclosure with a long overdue sense of respite. My faithful white mare would not be able to judge or criticise me, and as I stroked the soft velvet of her nose, she welcomed me with the usual flare of her nostrils and a shake of her head. I smiled fondly as I recalled the many years of dedicated service she had provided for me, and I ran the back of my fingers down her broad face as I looked into her large, perpetually sad, drooping eyes. It was a miracle that she had escaped relatively unharmed from the wreckage of the castle, and thankfully her light injuries had not been enough to lame her. But she never failed to appear melancholy these days, although it might have been accentuated today by my own restlessness.

"What's the matter?"

I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. "Don't do that!" I said, turning round. "You gave me a fright."

He smiled a confident apology as I began attending to my horse again, but I heard him saunter up behind me. Just as I was about to check over her saddle and bridle, a pair of arms snaked round my waist and jolted me back into the solid mould of his armour.

"I would like an answer to my question, princess," he murmured seductively into my ear before planting a kiss on the corner of my jaw.

"Nothing's wrong," I muttered, trying to concentrate on my task and not let him get the better of me.

"I think you're lying," he said in a low breath before kissing me again.

"Stop it," I snapped as I tried to shrug him off, but he held me fast.

"Well, _this_ is a change from this morning."

"Stop it, please" I said again. He went to kiss me for a third time, but I twisted away from his wandering mouth.

"You think you're betraying him, don't you?" he said more seriously.

"How can you blame me?" I cried, spinning round in his arms. "You know I love Link, you told me so yourself yesterday! Now you accuse me of betraying him when it was _you_ who pushed both of us into it. _That's _what's wrong, Fierce Deity."

He paused before he spoke again, his arrogance slowly narrowing into a more solemn and conscious frown. "You know, you've never called me that before."

"You're not even listening to what I'm saying!" I shouted angrily.

"Of course I'm listening," he retorted with equal resentment.

I shot him a momentary glare and then averted my eyes before he could counter it. Somehow we had relapsed back into that familiar antagonism that had characterised so many of our previous conversations, that rivalry that had never failed to spark our tempers or throw us together in verbal combat.

We remained silent for a few moments, neither of us wanting to give in and have our veneer crumble. But eventually I felt no longer in the mood for arguing. I sighed in defeat and leant my head against his chest.

"I don't understand," I said. "How can you be so similar yet so different?"

Then, with an unexpected tenderness, he kissed the top of my head and stroked my hair with his large hands. "Things aren't so simple, Zelda, not when they involve _him_. He and I – " he began, but the rest of his words became lost as he too exhaled a heavy sigh. "We should be going," he resumed as he took a step backward.

I instantly looked up at him with a broken longing, desperate to know what he had intended to start by those three words. But he only smiled faintly and turned to leave. I started after him to catch his arm, but I saw that his broad shoulders were not quite as upright as they had been earlier, and his entire figure seemed deflated. Perhaps he really was struggling with something I had not been aware of, and so I stopped myself and let him go. There would be time enough to find out just how he had intended to end the sentence that began, "He and I."

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**AN: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed last time, and hello to any new readers! :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter. It's actually changed quite a lot from the first draft (three times in fact), so that's partly why it's been so late in coming. But I think this is the best incarnation of this chapter, but if you think anything is wrong with it, please don't hesitate to let me know! I wasn't sure myself quite how to proceed with this one, so any criticism is very welcome :).**

**University is starting again in a week's time, so the next chapter might also suffer a bit of a delay D: I apologise in advance, but will do my best not to make you wait too long! Until then, Perfect Soldier 01**


	9. Chapter 9: Blue Eyes

**AN: I'm so sorry this has taken so long. University barely left me with one free minute this term, and I just didn't have time to write. Final year is not fun :/. But now it's the holidays, and I've finally managed to get this next chapter written. So I hope you enjoy it :). **

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White Eyes

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 9: Blue Eyes**

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I had hoped that Impa would have returned with the messenger by the time we both emerged from the stables, but the only people who greeted us were the ever-present wardens who had just finished unlocking the great black gates in preparation for our departure. Even once they had returned to their posts there was still no sign of Impa, and so for a few moments it was just the Fierce Deity and I waiting alone in the courtyard. Thankfully both of us had led our horses out on opposite sides, he on the right and I on the left, and the comfortable barrier that they provided gave me a chance to temporarily distance myself from all that had passed between us that morning.

Standing closely inside my mare's steady shadow, I buried my face in her soft mane and let the comforting smell of warm hay take me back to memories of happier days when the hot sun had been shining down on Hyrule Field during the final few months before Zant's invasion. The plains had still been alive with the freshness of spring then, but they had just started to buzz with the ripe, summery haze of maturity, when the grasses morph from green to yellow in the shimmering sunlight, and the trees shed their blossoms and replace them with their fruit.

I had been riding with someone by the river, their face momentarily forgotten, and without thinking I replaced their blurred, cloudy image with Link, smiling down at me by my side. We were laughing, racing our horses over the bridge and up through the gorge to the north of the castle. Even above the high stone walls I could see the uppermost towers reaching up high towards the heavens, and my heart swelled with pride. Link called to me, his eyes bright and alive with the carefree wildness he only let loose when he galloped as fast as he could.

But I knew that deep down I had never seen Link ride Epona like that, and I had certainly never ridden with him in such reckless freedom. Link had been as lost to me then as he was to me now, and at the moment the chances of me finding out what it might be like to ride with him in that way were falling very quickly. If I didn't find a way to make the Fierce Deity relinquish his hold over Link, he would be lost to me forever. In spite of all my confused feelings, I needed to find a way of saving both of them from each other. So many things were just starting between all three of us, but there were so many more things that needed an ending.

At that moment the manor doors swung open and crashed shut again, followed in hot pursuit by Impa's impatient orders to the small train of servants and guards who followed her. They crossed the courtyard and rushed past me with hurried smiles and bows as Impa strode over to give me quick, helpful boost up into my saddle. Just as I was about to apologise to her again for causing such a delay, two more horses were brought out of the stables and she disappeared behind me with the messenger in tow.

"Colonel, this way if you please," Impa said with relative calm.

"Yes, yes," he said jovially. "Beautiful morning is it not, your majesty?"

Having not expected him to stop and speak to me in the midst of Impa's frantic preparations, I blinked away my surprise and replied with something plausibly equal to his enthusiastic remark, making sure to make a mental note of his correct rank which I had only had time to guess beforehand.

The gates were soon pulled open with a heavy, laboured creak and once everyone was ready we all began to move forward. Hanging back a little from everyone else, I was the last to kick my horse into action. The hot patches on my neck had started to itch, and my scarf was doing nothing to help hide them from my attention. With every minute twist of my head it scrapped against them like a rough flint, daring to re-ignite those lingering, suffocating sparks that had just died down from its raging blaze.

Trying to keep my head as still as possible, I glanced forward at the Fierce Deity. He had chosen to ride Epona, although 'chosen' was really the wrong term. With all the other horses in use, she was really the only choice he had on offer, but it soon became evident that his great height was going to prove a problem. He sat with his back straight and rigid in her saddle, but he looked like a giant on a child's rocking horse; his knees were hitched up far too high even with the stirrups at their full length, and his shoulders soon hunched round in a cramped circle as he tried to keep his balance. Epona obviously knew that someone was amiss with this strange, new passenger as well, and whenever the Fierce Deity gave a coaxing kick to her side the only responses he produced were very loud snorts or a violent shake of her head.

I lowered my eyes again and bit my lip in an attempt to suppress my laughter as he started muttering angry curses under his breath. It seemed rather ironic that he, the fearsome god, could be thwarted by a mere animal, but my amusement was cut short when he made her jump onto her hind legs as he yanked the reins back in frustration. I had to cover my ears as Epona shrieked with a shrill whinny as she reared up in fright, but the Fierce Deity let out an even more terrifying roar as he forced her back down with his bare hands. Pressing hard on her neck, both of them came crashing down in a clatter of hooves against the snowy stones, and I turned away shocked and surprised. The next sound to enter my ears was the leathery slip of his leg over his saddle and the soft hop of his feet landing on the ground. As if nothing had happened, he then proceeded to drag Epona towards one of the guards who had opened the gates for us, and we all stared at him in astonishment.

"Who _is_ this man?" I heard the colonel wander aloud to no one in particular. "He looks an awful lot like Master Link - "

"H-He's a visitor from another country," Impa cut in before the colonel went any further. "He's here on behalf of some...financial aid matters."

"I see," he said, sounding very unconvinced.

"He's a little erratic, but we thought this occasion would be a good opportunity of showing him the extent of the damage," Impa added quickly, and I thanked her silently for her intervention.

"I see," he said again in the same bemused tone, evidently more caught up in the Fierce Deity's spectacle than what Impa was actually saying.

She led him away towards the gates, and I was just about to follow when I caught the Fierce Deity's cold and narrow glare. He had thrust the reins into the guard's stunned and shaking hands and was now advancing on me, his eyes fixed and unchanging. My heart started racing with the thought of him now refusing to come with us, and my breath caught in my throat as I sat helplessly waiting for his next act of fury to follow. But when the Fierce Deity reached out and grabbed the very end of my reins and started pulling us after the others, his tight fist curling round the thin leather band, I was so unsure about what to think that the only thing I could focus on was cursing the inevitable proximity my side-saddle had now placed me in, and preventing the tip of my foot from brushing against his arm.

"I was doing quite well by myself, thank you," I said eventually, curling my toes inside my boot.

He didn't answer.

"You're not going to walk the whole way, are you?"

"I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" he said crossly.

"I-I suppose not," I answered timidly.

He fell silent again and looked forwards, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his sad figure. His mouth had set itself back into that familiar straight line of gritted anguish, and his feet plunged heavily into the crushing press of the snow as if he too were laden with an extra burden on his back.

"What's wrong?" I asked while feeling bold enough to touch his shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't touch me, you hypocrite," he growled.

My fingers had barely left my side but they recoiled almost immediately as if the bitter, dejected sting of his voice had just pierced palm of my hand like a poisonous needle. My teeth tugged at my lips as involuntary tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked away before my emotions could betray the pain I felt from his cold refusal. The words of a spiteful comeback about how he had been unable to keep my hands away from him earlier shot through my mind, but as I remembered our conversation in the stables the insult felt sour on my tongue. I deserved the full force of his words, and this cruel sorrow was the price I had to pay.

"Zelda..."

My head swung round at the sound of his voice before I could check myself, and his eyes flickered up to see the most unguarded affliction I had ever allowed anyone apart from Link to see. His lips dropped open and I wanted to believe that he looked almost horrified by the effect he had caused.

"I-I'm fine," I mumbled, wiping my eyes.

"Don't cry," he murmured, almost making me jump as his thumb glided along my cheek.

Catching my tears as they rolled down over his fingers, he was about to withdraw when I caught his hand and pressed it back against my face. The smallest of smiles rose up in the corners of his mouth and he retraced the crescent underneath my eyes with the rough pads of his fingertips. His palm then settled round the curve of my jaw, repeating the same gentle caresses, and I didn't stop him when he slid down to my scarf and pushed away the material to reveal the growing red circles left behind by his hungry mouth, my hands ghosting above his all the way. A proud smirk replaced his smile, but he surprised me with the next words that floated effortlessly out of his mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

A blush swept across my face as I tried to process the sincerity of his words. I didn't know what to do or say in response, but every muscle in my body suddenly became desperate and eager to jump down from my horse and kiss him there and then. My whole body tingled with those three words that seemed to signify a new step away from our confused and cautious cloud of misery and uncertainty, and I almost went through with it until I saw Impa looking back at us from the corner of my eye.

"T-That's not like you," I replied nervously, tearing my eyes away from him. "You're hardly going to keep up your good name if you start paying people compliments like that."

I heard him sigh disappointedly, and he paused before he spoke again. "What name would that be?"

"The Fierce Deity, of course," I said with a small laugh, fixing my gaze back on him once Impa had turned around again. "What else could I mean?"

But when he let go of my reins and stopped walking altogether, the corners of my lips plummeted back down towards my chin. I immediately pulled my horse round, panic rising in my chest. He was just standing there, his face void of all expression, his mouth hanging open. His glazed eyes stared blankly into the snow before him, not even rising to meet me when I jumped down from my saddle and stumbled toward his frozen frame. I grabbed his shoulders and looked up desperately into his face, calling his name again and again as I caught my own reflection in his white pupils.

"Who am I?" he whispered hoarsely in a voice that wasn't his own.

"You're the Fierce Deity!" I cried frantically.

"Zelda," he breathed, his brittle, broken voice chilling me to my very core, "what's my name?"

My mouth opened in anticipation of an answer, but my tongue failed to move. Every word I tried to form was muted somewhere in-between my head and my mouth, but I had to act fast before Impa noticed we weren't following them. As every second ticked by another solution was lost in the chaos, but he needed my help at once. Without thinking I stood on my tiptoes and reached up around the Fierce Deity's neck, pulling him down to my level and taking his face in my hands. I gasped as I felt the rough edges of his mask scrape against my fingers once more, and I tried in vain prevent my eyes from widening in horror. His face was still blank and unchanging in its terrifying lack of expression, but I took a firm hold of his jaw-line and pressed the edges back into his skin.

"You are the Fierce Deity," I said with every ounce determination it took to keep my voice calm and steady. "You were once the king of a faraway land where you ruled unconditionally and without fear. You loved a girl with all your heart but lost her by your own hand. Come on, remember who you are. Come on, please! You blinked! Can you hear me? Come on, Fierce Deity, say something! What else did you tell me? Y-You were great enemies with Majora but you defeated him in battle. You're looking for the man that imprisoned you in a mask." His eyebrows furrowed as he blinked again. "Can you remember? Please say something to me! Anything! Don't do this to me!"

"Zelda," he whispered heavily as his body reawakened from his lethargic and bewildered slumber.

"Oh, thank heavens," I breathed gratefully as he leant against me. "Sit down for a while. You need some rest."

But he kept on leaning, not paying any attention to what I was saying anymore. Realising that I couldn't support him for much longer, I sunk down to the ground as carefully as I could and pressed his forehead against mine.

"Listen to me, don't do this!" I said, holding the sides of his face even tighter than before. "You are the Fierce Deity," I started again. "You're an arrogant pain in the backside and you think that you're better than everyone else. You called me a mouse and I didn't like it. You get incredibly angry sometimes, so angry that it frightens me. But you're a good man. You have a gentle heart, I know you do, and you could do people great kindness if you wanted to. If you let down that proud exterior then you might be better for it. Look at me!" I cried, and his eyelids revolved slowly to meet mine. "You kissed me up on that mountain top with the world at our feet and I wasn't afraid. I don't know which of you two is listening to this, but whoever it is, I love you. I love both of you because you're each such an important part of the other. You need to understand that I can't separate you into two different men because... I just can't! I don't know how it happened, but you're so similar that sometimes even I can't tell whose personality is shining through the most. So please, please come back to me. One of you come back to - "

Soft lips fell against mine, dashing away the small, cloudy bridge of warm air that had carried my words across to his face, and I closed my eyes as a wave of dizziness rolled back and forth inside my head with the rise and fall of his mouth. Tentative hands rose to my shoulders, but they remained there quiet and stationary, holding me steady and keeping me grounded. Brushing my own fingers against his moving jaw, I let out a sigh of relief as I felt nothing more than his own skin. He shivered and pulled away, still keeping his head low and close to mine, but when I opened my eyes I was greeted once again by the faint blue irises I had witnessed this morning. They stared at me without blame or suffering, and the tilt of his eyebrows made it seem like they were full of forgiveness.

"L-Link, is that you?" I whispered.

The Fierce Deity nodded slowly.

Emotion overthrew me and I hugged him tightly. "Are you all right?" I cried into his ear. "I've missed you so much."

He did nothing except place a single hand on my back.

"Link, I'm going to save you, just you wait and see."

Again he said nothing, but his silence was too much to bear. Even though his merciful eyes had kept me from seeing the pain he must have felt, the guilt I had tried so hard to keep at bay suddenly burst its dams. "I'm sorry!" I said hugging him tighter. "I'm so sorry for what I've done. I didn't know what to do! You must hate me."

He finally moved and his hands coiled gingerly around my waist. I wanted to smile at his shy embrace, but he began pushing me back until I rested once more on my bent knees. Unsure of what he meant, I looked at him openly with fresh tears in my eyes, hoping and praying that he wasn't about to push me away completely. His head turned, his eyes downcast, and my heart sank. My shaky breath nearly surged out of my mouth in a choked and muffled sob of utter grief, but just as my hands raced up to cover my mouth, his head swung in the opposite direction and he shook his head in a negative. Raising his eyes, another small smile graced his lips as a hand came up and cupped my cheek.

I almost couldn't believe the extent of his compassion. "Y-You don't hate me?" I uttered, forcing myself to speak. "Do you r-really mean that?"

He nodded and I threw myself forward, biting down hard on my lip so that I wouldn't cry. "I love you," I whispered over and over again, "I love you so much," and I kissed the side of his face before finding his lips one last time in the longest, most apologetic kiss I could manage. "I'm going to rescue you, okay? Wait for me."

He smiled once more and closed his eyes. The blue had disappeared when he opened them again, as had his smile.

"Where am I?" the Fierce Deity said gruffly. "I feel like I've been kicked in the head by that damn horse of yours." Without waiting for a reply he rose to his feet and went to pick up the fallen reins that had slid dangerously close to my horse's hooves. "Come on, we haven't got all day, princess," he called.

Picking myself up off the ground, I followed him obediently and he silently lifted me up into my saddle like it was the most normal thing in the world. We walked on in complete silence, neither of us feeling the need for the company of words. There was something amiss in the Fierce Deity's unquestioning behaviour, but I didn't let myself worry about it too much. Now more than ever I clear view of what lay ahead of me and the ending that needed to be completed. Link was waiting at the finish line, I was sure of that now, but I needed to stop the Fierce Deity from reaching him first. We were both in this race against time whether we liked it or not and there would only be one winner. I just needed to make sure that the winner was me.

* * *

**AN: As always, feedback is much appreciated. Apologies again for the delay with this chapter. I'll try and not let it happen again, but I can't make promises. Next term looks like it might be as hectic as this one just gone, but I hope I won't have to make you wait another three months for the next update :). **

**Until then, whenever it may be, Perfect Soldier 01**


	10. Chapter 10: Betrayal

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 10: Betrayal**

* * *

We didn't speak again until we reached the foot of the mountain, where the hills began to roll down into the grassy plains of Hyrule Field.

"Well, this is Castle Town. It's not much to look at," I said nervously, "but here it is."

The castle ruins lay before us and I looked out across the plain to see what progress had been made. Cradled securely in the weathered arms of the stone walls and the winding bend of the river, the town still appeared to be in a state of chaotic disrepair. The great white towers of the castle were still crumpled in a broken heap behind the remaining foundations, and they lay toppled over one another like huge, fallen trees from the Ancient Forests, cracked and splintered, broken and irreparable.

The spires, too, were still plagued by patchwork of dark holes where whole swathes of blue roof tiles had been lost or spoiled. I almost couldn't believe that I had been trapped within those very walls which had once been so strong and indestructible, and even from this great distance I could see into the empty carcass of the royal hallway, the walls ripped apart as if by monstrous, clawed talons. That grand entrance to the inner wings of the castle, where all those chandeliers used to twinkle and shine in the candlelight, lay torn and ravaged by the castle's collapse, and my throat tightened as its painful absence became almost too overwhelming.

Taking the deepest breath I could manage, I tore my eyes away from the colossal graveyard of my home and averted my attention to the small, wooden houses below. A much more reassuring sight greeted me as I surveyed the vast network of scaffolding platforms that had been scattered all over the town, and I could see quite clearly that a lot of the buildings were well on their way to completion. Some even had tiny plumes of smoke rising up from the newly built chimneys on the newly fitted roofs, and it was almost as if nothing had changed.

Biting back a small sting of jealousy, I tried to smile as I waited for the Fierce Deity to say something in return, but he merely grunted and nodded discreetly in acknowledgment.

"Well, I think I shall ride on ahead and rally the troops," the colonel perked up with a chuckle. "After all, your majesty needs a proper and satisfactory welcome."

"Thank you, colonel," I said. "That would be most kind of you. We'll follow on behind at a reasonable pace."

"Excellent," he replied, but just before he spurred his horse onward, he added, "I must add, your majesty, this really is a great honour. Thank you so much for being here today. The troops will be so pleased."

"It's my pleasure, colonel."

He smiled and bowed reverently in his saddle, and with a crack of his whip he was gone, cantering off down the hillside toward the gate. We walked on slowly in his tracks, Impa bringing up the rear, but the thought suddenly occurred to me that the Fierce Deity still hadn't given me a description of his musician.

"What did you say that drummer looked like again? If I'm going to announce a nationwide search, I need to make sure I'm describing the right man," I said tentatively.

"I never told you what he looked like, princess," the Fierce Deity said bluntly, "so I'm not quite sure why you're pretending I have."

"Well, I can't issue a search if I don't know the man I'm meant to be looking for," I replied, waiting for an answer, but he merely sighed and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Are you going to tell me or not? I can just as easily take you back up that mountain again if - "

"I think you'll find that _I_ brought you down that mountain, princess," he interrupted.

I bit my tongue in slight embarrassment, but continued to wait as patiently as I could.

Finally, with another grumbling sigh, he spoke. "He wore a feather in his hair, and he had a long, light coloured cloak," the Fierce Deity muttered reluctantly.

A long silence followed. I expected him to say more, but when I realised that that was going to be the extent of his search criteria, I had to stop myself from laughing. After all this time, all this anticipation and commotion surrounding this man's identity and apparent crime, I simply couldn't believe that this was all he had to say. I let out a breath in astonishment, but his quick eyes snapped round and caught the incredulous and disbelieving smile that had just curved round my mouth.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, princess," he hissed with a raspy growl lurking in his throat.

"You don't expect me to make an announcement with just _that_ to say, do you?"

"Yes, I do. That's all you're getting, and unless you make that damn announcement you'll be going back to that cold, draughty hovel of yours alone!"

"You can't even remember him, can you?" I cried, not listening to his threats. "You're so wrapped up in your own feelings of revenge that you can't even remember that poor man's face!"

"Zelda!" Impa thundered from behind. "Both of you stop this immediately! What would people think seeing the two of you bickering like children?"

I pursed my lips instantly and fixed my gaze on the right, flickering ear of my horse, unable to look at the man beside me. I knew he deserved what I said. He had dodged the question so many times since he had accepted my help; I had even suspected that he couldn't quite remember this man with as much clarity as he would have liked... so why had I been so surprised? Why had I insulted him like that, in front of Impa no less?

Maybe I wanted him to stop deluding himself with this grand plan of revenge... maybe I wanted him to realise that this war he had spoken of had obviously ended hundreds, possibly thousands, of years ago, and that this musician was probably long since dead by now. From what Link had taught me about Majora's Mask, he had made it clear that it possessed an ancient, virtually extinct power unknown even by the sages themselves. This man could not possibly have survived through the ages unless he himself had sacrificed his own soul to a mask, and even then I couldn't believe that he would pursue these gods and continue their feud into the afterlife at his own expense.

He must have known he couldn't remember, but I wondered whether the Fierce Deity had really confronted the harsh truth of his own timeline. He was a man out of his age, far, far away from his home, and I couldn't understand how he had kept believing in both himself and his motives. Surely he must have known...

But just then I realised I had severed the connection tying us both together. Our deal had been broken, our mutual interests shattered. He now had no reason to be here with me and remain tied to my services. I had failed, utterly, utterly failed, and I cursed myself silently over and over again, dreading and expecting that he would let go of my reins with every passing moment, disappearing behind me into obscurity never to be seen again. A terrible fear crawled through the very fabric of my body, and I almost didn't dare to breathe in case I missed him slipping away from me.

But after a few painful moments I could still hear his footsteps crush the grass below his boots. I could still hear his sharp but heavy breath exhale through his nose, the metallic, chinking clockwork of his armour moving across his broad shoulders, and the subtle whistle of his tunic as his sleeves brushed against his side. The tip of my boot then swept across his upper arm and I felt him right there beside me.

My heart leapt.

"I'm sorry," I said, eventually finding my voice. "I didn't mean - "

"Leave it, princess."

"But I shouldn't have - "

"Just stop," he barked. "Please."

By this time Impa had trotted up beside me, her stern expression undoubtedly acting as a warning for a later reprimand, and as I conceded another apology, the three of us walked on side-by-side in silence. But even under Impa's stalwart gaze and surveillance, I couldn't help but wonder what was going through the Fierce Deity's mind. Was it Link who was keeping him here? Or was this his decision? Was he going to carry on deluding himself and go ahead with his plan? Or was he at a complete loss as to what he should do now?

I wished I could hear his thoughts, because I myself wasn't sure what I should do either. What was the point of announcing a search for a man that didn't exist? I couldn't waste any more valuable man-power – the rebuilding of Castle Town was my highest priority and the soldiers' workforce had already been stretched to its limit. I only hoped he would tell me what he wanted me to do before we reached the central plaza.

Crossing over the northern moat, we proceeded through the streets, our destination edging ever closer. I tried to busy my thoughts by looking at the houses either side of me, attempting to smile at the lack of dust and rubble littering the cobbled stones and admire how much work had gone into the construction, but my mind always turned back to what words I should choose, what to leave in and leave out, what to say to all those soldiers who had been working so hard in my name.

Just then we turned into one of the main roads and I saw the central plaza open out before us. The great circular expanse glistened in the sun, and the fountain in the middle seemed to catch the light at just the right angle to make it an almost blinding sight. I shielded my eyes, but as my sight adjusted I realised that the glistening shine was coming from something else. As we came closer, I saw that it was coming from the new statue of Link just beyond the fountain, raised high on a marble plinth, triumphantly raising a sword towards the sky.

His new royal robes billowed out behind him in a dramatic stance of defiant victory, and the shimmering water in the fountain reflected across the surface, lacing around the curves and contours of his Kokiri tunic in ethereal ripples as if it had clothed in rings of dancing fairies. A wolf stalked about his legs, enclosed safely within the arc of his cloak, looking up at Link's face which was in turn drawn upwards to the tip of his sword. I couldn't make out any more detail from this distance, but it was nevertheless a truly magnificent sight, and my heart swelled with pride as we approached.

Suddenly I heard the sound of Hyrule's national anthem fill the air, and I saw the colonel appear in front of us with a group of soldiers standing to attention behind him. As the introduction came to a close, they all opened their mouths and a chorus of deep voices flourished in merry unison, soaring through the empty streets and empty houses, filling the deserted town with words of hope and courage, telling a tale of determined survival against the mightiest of adversaries.

I pulled back my hood and held my breath, not wanting to miss even the smallest note, and the full volume of their song flew into my ears. One voice then became several as they separated into different layers of harmony, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end. I caught every intonation of sorrow and strife in their melody, and I almost had to stop myself from shedding my own tears of remorse as memories of Zant's invasion stirred in the back of my mind.

Their voices then grew stronger and stronger as the song grew towards its climatic finish, and I wished that all the townspeople could have been here to hear them sing. I hoped that the wind would carry their song up over the plains to the rocky sanctuary of Kakariko Village, and that somewhere the people would be able to hear this triumphant testimony to their strength and perseverance in times of suffering. They deserved at least this much, and I decided there and then that I would make a journey to Kakariko and honour their enduring resilience once I had Link back by my side.

But while I was entranced by their singing, I didn't notice that the Fierce Deity had left my side until he was out of my reach. He advanced forward quickly, his neck craned and stretched towards Link's statue, and his hands tore through the crowd of confused soldiers like he was wading through a river, their song trickling to a halt as his imposing figure loomed over them. Instead, the sound of unsheathed metal rang through the plaza as the Fierce Deity splashed into the fountain. He finally stopped dead in his tracks, every eye and every sword and spear trained on his back.

An age seemed to pass before he turned slowly to reveal his face again. I felt as though I should have done something to stop this absurd behaviour, but when I saw the storm of unfathomable darkness rage inside the Fierce Deity's icy glare I felt like every ounce of life had been knocked out of me. Each one of his muscles was taut and clenched in an angry fury, his teeth gritted and his lips snarling like a mad beast, and that one look rooted me to the base of my saddle.

But when his shoulders started to rise around his neck, I was overcome by a horrible feeling of déjà-vu. There he was, standing in my study again, framed all in white and silhouetted inside that dark aura swirling at his feet. His dark, cruel hands had almost ended my life yesterday, but now an even greater sense of despair started to flood into my lungs, choking every last gasp of air left in my body. Never before had I felt death so close to my skin, and every single hope drained away, disappearing on the very same tailwind which had swept away the soldiers' haunting melody only moments before.

Clanging footsteps then pulled me back to the attention of reality. The colonel's men had scattered away from the fountain, their weapons cowering as their arms trembled, and they had huddled together to form a futile barrier between the Fierce Deity and myself. I admired their protective instinct, but not even the sharpest blade or the greatest courage was going to stop him now, not when he was like this.

"You lied to me!" he roared

I opened my mouth to reply, knowing full well I had no words to answer him, but a noise belonging to neither of us suddenly shrieked loudly in my ears, and I lurched forward and round to the side with both sounds revolving round my head in a dizzying assault. My horse had bolted, galloping away from the plaza as fast as her legs could carry her. With my mind still recoiling from the Fierce Deity, I had no time to think and I lost all control. Pulling the reins did nothing to tame her wild and frenzied escape, and I felt like I was about to be thrown to the floor. I grabbed her neck in desperation as I felt my whole body fly out of the saddle, shutting my eyes as tightly as I could, and cried again and again in vain for her to stop and slow down.

Nothing would break her frantic rhythm, and the clatter of cobblestones cracked through my ears with an almost deafening rattle. I lost all sense of time and direction, but the hard clips of my horse's hooves suddenly morphed into a soft, deep knocking of wooden beams and then finally into the rustling brush of the grass. I opened my eyes and found her clambering up a hill outside the castle walls, but her staggering movements finally broke my slipping hold.

I fell to the ground, tumbling across the earth in a rough heap until I hit the hard, gnarled roots of a tree. I cried out in pain, unable to even bring myself to move as I tried to process exactly what had just happened. Every bone felt bruised and battered, every muscle torn and tender, and my mind was completely numb and empty. Nothing that passed through my head could even begin to explain how I had ended up here on my back at the foot of a tree, but just then I heard a cacophony of shouts and screams in the distance and I scrambled to my knees.

A hundred arrowheads immediately shot through my body as I forced myself up, and I cursed my own fright as I turned my head and assessed the land around me. My horse's galloping hooves were still drumming against the inside of my skull, and in the time it took me to wince at the terrible, ghostly echo, something else had completely eclipsed the reverberating racket in my head.

Racing out of the castle's gate on Impa's horse, the Fierce Deity mounted the hill and yelled my name loudly. Within seconds he had jumped down and hauled me to my feet, his thick fingers silencing my cries as his large hand clasped my throat.

"You lied to me, you wretched woman! You lied!" he spat, shoving me against the tree. "How dare you deceive me like this?"

"Stop!" I whispered desperately, but his grip tightened.

"Why should I?" he shouted, leaning even closer. "Why should I not kill you this very second? You betrayed me, and I'll never forgive you for what you've hidden from me!"

His breath was heavy and oppressive, suffocating what little air I was able to steal from the atmosphere around me in a warm, angry cloud. My hands flew to his wrists as I tugged and struggled against him weakly, all the while shying away from him as I waited for the first blow to strike.

But when nothing came I allowed my eyes to dart up to his face, and I saw the edges of his lips quivering as tears swelled in his eyes.

"All this time you've been pretending you didn't know, but you've been worshipping him like a damn god all along! I may not have been able to describe him in exact terms, but I've never, even for a moment, forgotten his face. Do you think I would forget the man who sentenced me to this living hell? I trusted you!" he cried, having shouted himself hoarse. "Do I mean nothing to you?" he resumed thinly. "You've treated me like a stupid fool and I'll never, ever forgive you."

"It's not -" I started.

"Don't lie to me again!" he barked. "If he isn't the same man, I'm a damned -" He paused as if he had spoken accidently.

"The man in the statue," I gasped, "is Link."

"That's not true!"

"It was built in his honour," I said more forcefully as his grip faulted ever so slightly. "And you know it was too."

"No!" he bellowed. "You're wrong!" His eyebrows knotted as he tried to re-focus his glare, but his quivering lips eventually pulled his mouth down and broke his strained composure. "You're -"

But he couldn't finish. With a laboured swallow he broke away, his gaze averted, and roared an almighty cry. All his frustrated sorrow erupted from his body in an agonising, mournful howl, and I shivered as I listened to his choked sobs rupture the surrounding silence. Shouting loud curses to the heavens, he then sank to his knees and thrashed the ground with his fist, damning his very existence.

I watched him in dumb shock, my entire body trembling with an increasingly strange mixture of dread and compassion. I knew he had just threatened my life, and had done so for the second time in two days, but everything that had passed between us seemed insignificant now in the raw face of his utter desolation. His broken sobs struck the very core of my heart and once I caught my breath, I stepped forward slowly and unafraid. Approaching him from behind, I seized hold of his hand with surprising ease before he slammed it down once more into the earth.

He looked up at me almost as soon as I touched him, his white eyes heaving with unshed tears. Lowering his hand, I held it tightly in both of mine before shuffling forward and embracing him gently. Overcome by my own sorrow, I whispered into his ear,

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He remained still, content to be held.

"I can't go on like this, Zelda," he said eventually.

"Don't talk like that."

"Everything I knew is long since dead. I'm the only one left. What purpose do I have now? All those years of suffering, all that time spent waiting; it's all been for nothing. There's nothing worth living for now."

"Am I not worth living for?" I murmured without thinking.

He stiffened in my arms, paralysed by my question, and I suddenly realised what I had just said. Feeling very uncomfortable being so close, I pulled away and left my words hanging awkwardly in the space between us. We looked long and hard at each other, both of us realising that the answer to this seemingly simple question would either bind or break us, and that afterwards there would be no going back. Everything ridded on his answer.

"No," he said in a soft sigh.

I blinked in surprise and looked away, refusing to believe his reply. I wasn't sure why I felt so hurt and confused, but I was ever conscious of a sharp and increasing twist in my heart which was becoming more painful than all of his threats put together.

But then he caught my cheek and tilted my back to look at him again.

"You're worth dying for," he finished, and he leant towards me and pressed his lips against mine.

His touch was only brief, but somehow he seemed to convey an entire spectrum of emotion. No longer hungry for the taste of my flesh, I suddenly felt like he was kissing me for the very last time, and I moved forward to pull him into another embrace, hoping he would realise that I wouldn't give up on him so easily. But he held my arms fast against my side and buried his face in my neck, restricting every one of my movements. He breathed in deeply.

"Take off my mask," he said.

I froze at his request, almost certain that my ears had deceived me. "What?"

"I want you to take off my mask," he said again.

All of a sudden I heard running footsteps behind me and the Fierce Deity's eyes lifted above me.

"Do it now, Zelda, before they come."

I shook my head, dumbfounded by what he was asking me to do. "I-I can't."

"Yes, you can. Do it now, quickly!"

But I couldn't obey his command, and before I knew it the soldiers come round and grabbed the Fierce Deity by the arms and dragged him out of my sight. I heard the snap of an iron collar, but there was little resistance. Everywhere there were shouts and orders, but I heard none of them. It was only when Impa touched my shoulder that the world came back into focus and I realised I had been crying. She lifted me to my feet and enclosed me in an embrace without a single word, and when I finally looked over her shoulder the Fierce Deity was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**AN: Once again, apologies for being so late with this update. I'm also going to have you make you wait a while for the next chapter too, which I'm really sorry about. As I'm sure you'll understand, I'm currently getting very near the end of my final year of university, and my work is getting increasingly important. My timetable is also unhelpful this term, because the week's break I usually have in about a month's time has been moved right until the end of term, which is two months away. I will try to write the next chapter during this time, but this is a forewarning for another long gap between updates (which I'm sure you're all used to now anyway!).**

**But with all that aside, thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! :) You have no idea how much your words mean to me. I know that a lot of things happened in this chapter, so I would be grateful for your feedback again. I've been wanting to write this one ever since I first planned the story, so I hope you enjoyed it and that the pace wasn't too hectic. As for the Fierce Deity mistaking Link to be his mysterious drumming assassin, the manga portrays the drummer in quite a similar fashion to Link, so hopefully that clears up any confusion that may have been caused by that section of the chapter. If you haven't seen/read the manga already, I would recommend doing so as it's quite central to this story.**

**Until next time, Perfect Soldier 01**


	11. Chapter 11: Under the Mask

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 11: Under the Mask**

* * *

It was a long time until I could bring myself to move from my place on the hill, and it took even longer to think of the right words to say. Every part of my mind felt numb and cold, and its empty dead weight pressed firmly against the deepest recesses of my skull, suffocating any chance of even the vaguest comprehension.

Of all the things he had said and done during our short acquaintance, nothing could have prepared me for what the Fierce Deity had asked of me. Everything up until now had relied on the belief that _I_ would have been the one demanding that he surrender himself, that _I_ would be tearing and forcing the mask from his face after a triumphant struggle with his stubborn and enduring antagonism. It had never occurred to me that he would resign himself to such utter defeat, and I realised with growing unease that while I had never lost sight of my goal, I had never really thought that I would succeed.

"Where are they taking him?" I finally asked Impa quietly.

"They will have locked him up in the remaining dungeons in the south wing of the castle," she replied flatly. "It's about the only suitable place left for his detention."

"He didn't hurt me," I said quickly. "He wasn't going to hurt me."

"We all thought he was about to kill you!" Impa sighed exasperatingly, "Don't be so naive, Zelda. You may have been saved by an act of fate yesterday, but you can hardly expect your soldiers to sit idly by when..." She stopped, unsure of how to continue.

"But he wouldn't do that," I insisted. "He wasn't going to." Impa remained silent, her lips pursed together in a tight line of restraint, but her wide, disbelieving eyes spoke differently. "He wouldn't do such a thing," I said again, as if repeating it would make me feel more reassured about the truth of my words.

She turned her gaze away and sighed again, looking out towards the pass that led to the bridge across Lake Hylia. "What did he say to you?" she said eventually.

My mouth opened, but no words followed. I looked down and thought of how to phrase my answer so that Impa would understand the grave implications of his demand. I tried to condense every threat and misunderstanding, every agonising cry, and every tortuous moment of his final words into the shortest form I thought possible, but nothing seemed sufficient.

"He told me that I could take off his mask," I said slowly, deciding to start from the end first. "He said that he had given up and that... and that he couldn't live like this any longer. He said -"

But I couldn't continue. My throat had tightened with an onset of tears that never came, constricting every sound that tried to escape in a thick coil of sorrow. I took a deep and trembling breath in an effort to carry on, ashamed that I couldn't hold my composure in front of her any longer, but Impa had already turned round and gathered me back into her arms.

"This is something you both need to talk about," Impa said soothingly. "You need to go and talk with him again and bring this to a close."

"Take me to him," I mumbled, "please?"

Leading me by the hand, we walked back towards the town, passing once again through the cobbled streets until we came to stand before the broken ruins of the castle. My heart leapt into my throat, my grief increasing as every detail became more and more perceptible. From the mountainside the towers had still looked as though they had retained a shadow of their gleaming white exteriors, but now that I stood beneath them I could see that they were almost grey with fatigue, its colour worn away by age and frailty.

I looked down, keeping my eyes on the steps that rose up to the castle gates, but even then the haggard and splintered masonry below my feet provided an ever-present reminder of all that I had lost. Short of closing my eyes altogether, I hurried up through the tall, empty space where the great wooden doors would have been and turned straight towards the direction of the dungeons.

Refusing to fully comprehend the colossal damage of the castle, I made sure that Impa stayed beside me at all times, forging the best barrier I could to keep my eyes from wandering upwards unsupervised. Even though I had seen it fall and tumble to the ground, the face of the castle slowly crumbling in one swift liquid shimmer of destruction, this was the first time I had stood so close to the ruins themselves, and never before had it seemed so much like a graveyard.

There were no birds singing in the trees anymore, and even the trees had largely been uprooted or smashed by the might of a fallen tower. The ground was also almost completely covered with broken roof tiles and slabs of stone, the occasional sprout of grass poking up through the debris, and sheets of dust littered the earth in-between, forming a kind of fragmented carpet over the bare soil.

Picking our way carefully over the rubble, we eventually came to the hill of a collapsed spire, and together we climbed the stack of broken stones, my eyes still focused on what was immediately in front of my feet. It wasn't until we arrived at the dungeons that I allowed myself to look forward. With the castle safely behind me, I saw that a large crowd of guards had crowded round the small stairwell that curled down to the underground caves, weapons staked and ready to pounce at the slightest movement, like a gang of cats waiting for a timid mouse to venture out of its hole. As soon as they registered my presence a hushed whisper ran loudly through the throng, causing their heads to turn and the slight lowering of their spears.

"Step aside, please," I said with as much command as I could summon.

One soldier stepped forward, his back straight and his eyes firm. "But your majesty, we insist that -"

"Let the princess through," Impa cut in. "That's an order."

They shifted away from the small opening in the ground, reluctantly stepping off the crumbled walls surrounding the tired mound of soil and the thick iron door that should have been standing upright before it. Proceeding silently, I followed Impa down into the dimly lit passageway, trying not to meet their gazes as their eyes trailed my every move. The walls were narrow and dusty with misuse, my shoulders almost filling the space between the dark stones, and the fixed torches played with our shadows as we descended, throwing them into hideously exaggerated shapes as we curved round the central pillar.

It was only when we reached the bottom that an overwhelming stench of old rotting flesh and excrement came crashing into my nostrils, and my hands shot to cover my face almost immediately. I shied away tentatively and hugged the wall around the steps while Impa strode in unfazed. With her usual quick efficiency, she dismissed the guards on duty with another curt and firm order, and then handed me my own torch, smiling briefly before she too made a move to return to the top of the stairs as well. Having to take another few steps forward in order to let the guards past, I forced myself into the musty, stale air. Taking one last glance at Impa's retreating form, I caught her eyes for just a second with my own small smile in the darkness, and I thanked her silently for all her help as I waited nervously for my thoughts to settle.

Once the echoing steps had finally ceased and I was sure I was alone, I held the torch higher and filled the room with a hazy, flickering light. I did not yet trust the steadiness of my voice to call out his name, but thankfully he spoke up first.

"Over here," he called wearily from behind.

I spun round and peered into the thick, black velvet light and tried to make out his figure. I edged closer to the end of the long line of cells and eventually saw him slumped in the farthest corner, his legs lying limply out in front of him and his head leant back against the iron bars. Suddenly feeling very hot underneath the suffocating smell of the prison, I unclasped my cloak and laid it down on the dirty floor, slowing easing myself onto my knees. The torch light gradually washed over his closed and swollen eyes in a soft, warm haze, and I gasped as I beheld his bruised and battered face, the orange and yellow light quickly making his injuries seem all the more aggravated.

"What did they do to you?" I whispered in disgust.

"What does it look like?" he muttered. "They thought I was going to kill you, so they decided to have a go at killing me as well."

A violent cough then ripped through the silence, and the hoarse retch grated sharply against my ears. I reached out a hand to touch the side of his face, but he slunk away as far as he could from my advancing fingers.

"I'm sorry," I said, unsure of what I could say to comfort him.

He cracked an ironic smile as another cough choked its way out of his throat. "If you had just done what I said, then neither of us would have to endure this anymore."

"It's not that easy as that."

"Why not?" he asked, swinging his head back round to face me.

I was about to speak when the look in his eyes brought me to a halt. The flames of my torch had leapt over the empty space of his pupils, filling them with a gleaming orange haze, and despite the bloated rings of red and purple flesh that hung over his eyebrows, they still managed to shine like small, distant stars in the firelight, round and wide, waiting for an answer.

"Why is it so hard to take off my mask?" he continued lethargically.

"Because I -" My voice broke.

"Because you what?" he said impatiently.

I paused, hoping and waiting for the words to say themselves so that I wouldn't have to do it myself, but nothing came.

"Look," I said starting again. "I... It's more complicated than simply asking me to take off your mask."

"You've said that already."

"I know, but... I suppose...I always thought _I_ would have to take your mask by force. I thought I would just be able to take it from you -"

"Then why don't you?" he cut in.

"Because I had never thought about what that would mean for you!" I cried, frustrated by his constant interruptions. "I had never thought that it would mean the end of your life. I hadn't wanted to care so much about what happened to you," I said looking up at him. "You can't just ask me to do such a thing; you can't ask me to kill you."

"I wouldn't die," he said softly, followed by another small cough. "I would live on inside the mask, just like before. It's no different."

"But what if no one puts it on again? What would you do even if someone _did_ put it on again? Look where you are now!" I said shaking a prison bar with my free hand. "What you're asking of me is no different from telling me to outright kill you!"

"Maybe it's time I died then."

"But -"

"But what?"

"But you can't! You can't want to die."

"Princess, when you've suffered for as long as I have -"

"No!" I cried. "It's not right!"

He reached out, encircling his large hand around my clenched fist holding fast onto the bar, and smiled weakly.

"Your concern is touching," he said breathing heavily, "but you must know that, when I die, you'll finally be able to carry on with your life without any distractions. You can finally have your hero back and everything will go back to the way it was before."

"How can you say that? I can't just pretend that these past two days didn't happen."

"You must," he pressed grimly.

"No!" I shouted again, unable to tolerate his insistent indifference any longer. "No, I won't do that." Retracting my hand I wrenched my scarf from my neck, exposing the small red ruins of his affection to the hot torchlight. "How can I forget these? You've changed everything! Everything I ever knew about -" My tongue tripped over itself again. "- about..."

"About _what_?" he said with equal volume. "Stop dancing around your own words, Zelda!"

"About love!" I finally exclaimed.

"About love?" he repeated incredulously.

"About love," I said again looking down at my knees, barely believing that I had said it myself.

In those next few moments all I could hear was the slide and shift of his head, the clicking scrape of his gauntlets, and the uneasy fidgeting of his entire body as the two words hung uncomfortably in the air around us, slowly becoming as oppressive as the ever-present stench of extinction.

I almost jumped when his fingertips pressed against my cheek, cool and gentle, and my eyes shot up to see him leaning heavily on his knees against the prison bars, his hand outstretched, and his face contorted in a strained and swollen mess of confusion. His fingers fell back almost immediately to help support him against the rail, but the fleeting ghost of his touch forced me up from the floor to follow the trail of his hand. Placing my torch against the side of the wall, I encircled the whites of his bloodied knuckles in my palms and gazed up at him, waiting.

"You love me?" His voice was low and husky with an imminent cough.

I nodded slowly.

"What about your hero?" he said.

Pausing before I answered, I turned my head slightly to the side and rested it against the cold surface of the rusting bar, watching his chest rise up and down with almost nervous regularity.

"I've loved Link for a very long time," I began. "I still do love him, very much so, and there's no one in this world that I care more about than him. But this morning you told me that things aren't so simple between you and Link, and now I think I understand what you meant. I know that you're your own person, I'm not doubting that, but," I said swallowing anxiously, "both of you are so alike that it's difficult to separate one feeling from another. You're different, but at the same time you're almost exactly alike."

"He still loves you," he said wistfully. "I know that all too well. Come rain or shine, he'll love you until the end of time itself."

"How do you know that?" I asked, craning to face him once more and hoping that he would finally give me an answer to the one question I had been longing to know.

He cleared his throat roughly but didn't return my gaze.

"I can feel it," he replied. "I can feel every one of his emotions and every moment they grow stronger and stronger. I've been trying to shut them out ever since I..." he trailed off, letting the silence speak for itself, "but I'm not going to be able to keep him locked away forever," he started again, finally turning to look at me. "At the moment, I don't know whether this damn ache in my chest is just a ghost of _his_ feelings, or whether I actually..." He stopped again and heaved a frustrated sigh. "Every time I touch you he comes back, fighting and shouting your name, loving you so strongly that I almost can't bear it. You two have such a strong and powerful connection that I can read every one of your thoughts like they were words on a page. I can't take it anymore, not knowing what's mine and what isn't; I can't – we can't carry on like this. This morning, on the mountain, I don't know whether -"

"It's okay," I cut in, squeezing his hands. "You don't have to -"

"But it's important for _you_!" he cried. "You need to understand that I can't be what you want me to be. We can't be together, not now, not ever. I realise now what I've done, what I've put you through, and I wish I hadn't."

The sting in his words split the air between us, and he slid his hands out from underneath mine as he eased himself back onto his heels, leaving me to contemplate his harsh words in a dumbfounded silence. But the only thing I could think about then was the uncontrollable shaking of my knees on the hard stone floor and the throb of my heart vibrating through my body like a marching drum.

"Tell me what to do," I said firmly before I could crumble under another wave of desperate denial. "Tell me how to take it off."

He was back against the bars in the blink of an eye. "You already know how," he murmured softly before tilting my chin up and pressing his lips to mine.

Closing my eyes, I let him lift my hands up to his face and arrange them against his cheekbones, moulding my fingers into the crevasse of his neck. I fumbled blindly for the edges with my heart thick and choking in my throat, afraid that he would let go of me and make me do this alone, but he kept his hand securely over mine and held them tightly.

"Do it now, Zelda," he whispered into my mouth. "Just pull."

I kissed him back, not wanting to say goodbye like this. "I can't."

"You must, for both of us," and he covered my mouth again before I could protest.

My fingers then curled round the edges as he shifted his jaw, and he pushed my hands away from his face, holding on to them as long as he could before all his weight disappeared.

Almost falling back against my feet, I immediately opened my eyes and there in my hands was the mask of the Fierce Deity, as smooth and rigid as it had been only yesterday afternoon.

Something then shifted in front of me, but it wasn't the sharp, metallic click belonging to a heavy mantle of armour. Instead it was the soft graze of cotton and leather, and when I looked up I had to readjust my gaze because there was no one towering above me anymore. Underneath that vacant space was a much smaller man dressed in the richest green of the forest, with the eyes of the bluest ocean and hair shining like the brightest sun. It was Link.

* * *

**AN: I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to be written. University was super busy this term, but thank you for being so patient. I promise that the next update will be much quicker - I'm on vacation now, so if all goes according to plan then the next chapter will be out much sooner. I hope you enjoyed this one though - as usual, feedback is most welcome :D. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I hope a lot of things have become a bit clearer now. It looks like the end is in sight for Link and Zelda now... or _is it_? **

**Until the next chapter, Perfect Soldier 01**


	12. Chapter 12: Resolution

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 12: Resolution**

* * *

"Zelda?" - "Link!" we cried simultaneously, the chorus of our voices caught somewhere between a ringing smile and a despairing sob as Link edged closer into the haze of the torchlight.

Rising up from my knees, I ran one hand across Link's cheek. "It's really you! I can't believe it. The Fierce Deity -" I faltered, his name too thick and difficult to say without recalling his bitter goodbye. "H-He let you go. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Link answered plainly. "But..." He stopped and looked around him, clearly puzzled by our present location, "where are we?"

I shifted uncomfortably on my knees as a lingering knot of loss tightened around my throat. "We're in the dungeons underneath the castle ruins." His eyes widened. "It's all right," I said as calmly as I could. "It's all over now."

"What's all over?" he asked carefully.

I lowered my gaze toward the heavy mask lying in my hands, hoping that there would be some sliver of comforting reassurance to show me some truth in my words. But the weight and pain of the Fierce Deity's sacrifice still hung silently in his white, soulless eyes, now dead and empty within the confines of his mask. No longer marred by the violent bruises or gritty stains of sweat and dirt, they stared back at me with an accusing cruelty, taunting me with the promise of relief and respite before snatching everything away as I remembered his agonising despair. He had told me that this would put an end to everything, that I could move on with my life and live without his distracting presence, but nothing had resolved itself and I still felt suspended by the tired strings of my bruised and beaten heart being torn in two directions.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the suffocating clench of grief in my throat had swallowed each sound before I even formulated the words on my tongue. Clearing my throat, I started again. "Can you remember anything?"

"Not clearly. I remember you speaking to me, but that felt like as much a dream as anything else. You kept appearing in different places before you vanished again."

"Where?" I said a little too abruptly. "Where did you see me?"

Link looked down and rubbed his forehead as if it would rouse the dormant pool of his memories into a moment of clarity. "It's difficult to say," he said with a frustrated sigh. "It was often white though, white like the mountain snow. But it was almost as if the sun was constantly shining in my eyes – too bright to really tell what I was looking at. I missed you though," he said, reaching out and nuzzling his knuckles across the curve of my cheek.

"I missed you too," I said, hugging him tightly before the bitter sting of my deceit could break us apart.

"Tell me what's wrong," Link murmured warmly, but the depth of his empathy was almost too much for me to bear.

"There was a slight...misunderstanding," I said slowly, making sure I wouldn't tumble too far ahead into a flustered trap of lies. "Just after you...transformed, a messenger came from Castle Town. He told me that your statue was finished and he asked me to come down and see it – but I couldn't leave the Fierce Deity in the manor so I brought him with me and -" I stopped, lost for an explanation. "And he..."

"Take your time," Link said gently, rubbing my back through the prison bars just like he always used to do when I was upset.

"I don't deserve you," I replied with a sad smile.

"Don't be daft," he chided, placing a small kiss on my forehead.

"How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"Practice," he said simply. "Now tell me what happened."

"He..." But I couldn't bring myself to tell the truth. "It doesn't matter. We're both here now and that's all that matters," I said dismissively, knowing very well that my answer wouldn't be at all sufficient.

"It does matter," Link answered, sitting back on his heels so he could see me. "I may not – what are those marks on your neck?" he said suddenly, and my eyes widened as he narrowed his gaze into an unnerving scrutiny.

"What? No, no, these are nothing, nothing at all," I said hastily, tugging my scarf across the offending patch of skin as my cheeks grow hot and flushed.

"Did he do that to you?" he said, looking at me with a deadly seriousness.

"N-no!" I lied impulsively, my heart pounding too loudly for me to hear my answer.

Link then crossed his arms, his unease dissipating too slowly for my own liking as he watched me compose myself with a close scrutiny. I too shrank back into the darkness, hoping that the slightly weaker light would help hide my shame, but I could feel his intent stare refusing to move. I dreaded the moment when he realised what they were, and I froze when his eyes flickered down towards the mask.

"I may not be able to remember what I saw, Zelda, but I know very well what he felt," he said sternly, my heart sinking at every word. "I felt it all – every minute change and tremor... everything – and just now something made him terribly angry. He was so full of blood and revenge, so much more than I thought possible for anyone to feel. I need to know what he did, Zelda."

I blinked, expecting him to accuse me of betraying his trust and all the other horrific crimes I had committed, but when I realised that he wasn't going to say any more, I couldn't help but let out an inward sigh of relief.

It had been a long time since Link had spoken to me this seriously, possibly not since that night he had stormed into my chamber after I had banished him back to the forest. His grave, passive expression, the grim line of his lips, and the nearly-wild yet focused gleam in his eyes was exactly the same, the only difference being that he was no longer illuminated by the calm and quiet blue light of the moon. Instead, the mad heat of the fire beside us danced tirelessly over his features, surrounding him in an almost unearthly blaze, and I began to understand that apologies wouldn't be enough to save us this time. We had stepped out of our familiar territory and entered into something wholly more significant. This wasn't about fixing our past mistakes anymore; it was about forging a way for the future, and if I wasn't careful then I would end up burning the only bridge I had left.

But just as I prepared myself to tell the rest of the story, the long, dark shadows cast over Link's face brought me to another grinding halt. They were all centred around his eyes and cheeks, and his hair lent itself perfectly to creating the illusion of the Fierce Deity's pointed markings. If the mask hadn't been lying on the floor before me, it would have seemed like he was sitting there right in front of me, as if he had never let Link out of his grasp at all. I tried to ignore it and blink it away, but no matter how hard I tried his ghost continued to loiter in front of my eyes.

"H-He told me about the man who imprisoned him in his mask," I stammered, tearing my gaze away to where the Fierce Deity couldn't intrude. "He was a travelling musician and he was responsible for creating both the Fierce Deity Mask and Majora's Mask. But when we saw your statue, he...he thought that you were that man. He called me a liar and then he chased me out of the town walls." I paused, shivering as the racing panic that had nearly burst through my veins during my horse's flight resurfaced underneath my skin. "He caught me, and he grabbed me and held me against a tree with one hand," I continued, mimicking the action rather clinically with my hand around my throat. "I managed to talk some sense into him, but the guards then took him away and brought him here."

A silence then fell between us, the cracking flames the only sound interrupting the empty space that separated us. I looked tentatively at Link's stationary form, hoping that I would see him and him alone without the glare of the Fierce Deity staring back at me, and thankfully he had moved since the beginning of my speech and the shadows had morphed back into plain, unrecognisable shapes. His frown gradually loosened, almost as if there were invisible hands behind his brow slowly unravelling the creases of his skin, but he nevertheless remained in firm possession of his rigid determination.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise," he said dejectedly. "Are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine," I replied, not really sure whether I was fine or not. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay," he said, his voice trailing off uneasily.

"Why not?"

Before answering Link inhaled deeply and ran both of his hands through his hair. "I can't be the one who walks out of here, Zelda."

My mouth dropped. "W-What?"

"The guards locked away the Fierce Deity."

"So?"

"As far as they're concerned, I'm still in the manor. If they see me here with the mask, it will look like I'm the one who hurt you like that," he said motioning towards my neck.

"I'll send the guards away," I said, somehow feeling as though I had been let off the hook too easily.

"Zelda, you know they would never agree to that. You're their princess – they would be neglecting their duty to leave you alone completely. You might have persuaded them to leave you here now, but I bet they're waiting close-by in case of any danger. And even if they did leave, it wouldn't be easy to get me out of here without being seen. It would be too risky."

"But you can't put the mask back on."

"We don't have any other choice."

"But I only just got you back!" I cried, and we simultaneously joined one another at the bars again, my hands encircling his in a tight fist of protest. "I can't lose you again!"

"Listen, Zelda," he pleaded, pressing his forehead against mine as far as the bars would let us. "I don't want this anymore than you do, but there's something inside him that needs resolving, I can feel it. Something isn't right. I don't know what it is, but there's a part of him that knows nothing but endless sorrow and heartache. No one should have to bear such pain, but I'm not in a position to help him. You're the only one who can save him."

"No."

"Zelda, please," he entreated.

"No!" I cried again, certain that letting go of Link now would make him lost to me forever. "What happens if he won't take the mask off again? What happens if I can't find a way to save him?" What happens if I start falling in love with him again? I added silently.

"I know you can do it."

"No."

"He trusts you."

I leapt away from Link in shock, thinking it was too unlikely to be true. "He trusts me?"

"I'm certain of it," Link replied. "Just before you brought me back it felt like he was hoping for something still to come. It might not seem like it, but I think he needs your help."

Sinking back down onto my heels, I realised that I had never really thought about what I meant to the Fierce Deity. Perhaps he had been wrong in dismissing his feelings as mere imitations of Link's affections. Maybe he did have sentiments of his own. The thought of him trusting me, hoping for the day when I would come back to help him, sent a bubbling rush of excitement through me, and my heart swelled inside my chest with the thought of being able to tell the Fierce Deity the truth about the feelings he had denied himself.

But at the same time I became aware of something else altogether, something competing alongside it and fighting to be savoured with equal relish. It was a sensation all too familiar, one that reminded me of days gone by in quiet serenity, and I gradually realised that the real driving force behind my growing anticipation was the debt of gratitude I owed to Link's kindness. He was forfeiting everything, for me, for us, and most of all for the Fierce Deity, returning the gamble that the god had placed in him.

It was time for me to make a decision; I had to make a choice and follow it through without any second glances. The Fierce Deity himself had said that he couldn't be what I wanted him to be, and I knew now what he meant. Taking a deep breath, I reached behind me to where I had left the mask, allowing myself one last small smile as I held it up in front of me. I would help him and be by his side as long as he needed me, but after that everything had to finish.

"Here," I said, handing it to Link through the bars.

Our fingers lingered over each other, silently seeking permission and assurance of our mutual decision, and I realised how much I had missed our subtle mode of intuitive communication. There was a far deeper level of understanding between us that didn't exist with the Fierce Deity, and while I wished there had been more time to say goodbye to Link, I smiled encouragingly and squeezed his fingers as I let go. Link then reached out and tilted the crook of my chin up towards him, and I rose up to embrace him. Cradling the back of my head in his free hand, he placed another chaste kiss on my forehead as the cold, rusty bars pressed into my chest and face.

"I love you. Don't forget that," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"Of course I won't," he replied. "Don't be silly."

We were so close that his breath whispered across my lips and I closed my eyes, listening to the comforting sound wash through my senses, utterly content with his close proximity.

But a sudden trickle of clicks on the stairs made both of us jump. "Zelda? Zelda, are you all right?"

"It's Impa," I said anxiously, my eyes darting to the entrance of the prison as I tried to discern how close she was by the volume of her footsteps.

"We better say goodbye then," Link replied.

"For now," I corrected him with a final smile.

"For now," he agreed.

I kissed him quickly and then Link put the mask back on his face. Just like before his body shot backwards as he cast his eyes skyward, and the familiar white light enveloped him in a swift and blinding radiance. I dreaded the awful scream that had previously accompanied his last transformation, but the only sound that rang through my ears was the pealing sheen of the white magic at work.

Everything then fell back into darkness and once my vision adjusted to the growing gloom of the dungeon, the Fierce Deity eventually staggered out from his short-lived slumber. He groaned and rubbed his head lethargically, muttering curses to himself as he began to take note of his surroundings. It was only when he saw me sitting in front of him again that he jerked into motion.

"What the hell have you done?" he barked bewilderedly. "Why did you bring me back? You damned stupid woman! You weren't meant to choose me! You were meant to choose him!"

"I _have_ chosen him!" I cried with equal force, silencing him at once. "But I've also chosen to help you put a proper end to all this, so shut up and start co-operating."

He blinked in stunned surprise, but I was saved the hassle of any retaliation when Impa and the guards she had dismissed earlier appeared at the doorway. "Zelda, is everything all right? You've been done here for a while and the guards were getting concerned."

"Everything's fine," I said decisively, rising to greet them. Striding toward the guards, I felt the comforting authority of my royal facade spur into action. "I want the Fierce Deity let out of here immediately and transferred up to the manor's stronghold," I ordered. "He's no use to anyone down here, so could you kindly unlock his cell and prepare him for the journey ahead? Take whatever precautions you deem necessary."

"A-As you wish, your majesty," they stammered, not daring to answer back.

"Thank you," I said. "Impa, I need to speak with the colonel and apologise for this embarrassment. I think we'll have to postpone all this until another time."

"Yes, princess."

I heard the satisfying twist of a lock and clattering bolts behind me, and the two of us ascended the winding staircase while the guards tended to the Fierce Deity, my sense of purpose burning more brightly than ever before.

* * *

**AN: A little shorter than normal, so I apologise if this went rather quickly, but I really wanted this reunion to be a whole chapter in itself rather than getting bogged down in the Fierce Deity's return. I found this chapter quite difficult to write, especially in terms of achieving the right tone. I hope it fits in with what has come before! I didn't want Zelda to feel too eager to get the Fierce Deity back - after all, she still loves Link - but I also didn't want her to come across as melodramatic in her guilt, so your thoughts on this would be really helpful! :)**

**So, will Zelda be able to keep her promise? Find out in the next chapter (which I'm estimating will be up within a month or possibly sooner - I've got lots of deadlines and exams coming up in the next week or so, but after that Chapter 13 is the first thing on my 'To Do' list :D)! **

**Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed so far :)**

**Until the next chapter, Perfect Soldier 01**


	13. Chapter 13: Nocturne Reflection

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 13: Nocturne Reflection**

* * *

It took us the rest of the day to arrive back at the manor, and it was long past sunset by the time I saw the gate's dimly lit torches appear round the sloping shoulder of the mountain road. The sky was only punctuated by a small scattering of stars now, and the moon only peered out from behind the dark swathes of grey clouds every now and again as if to check that we were all still on the right path.

Thankfully the colonel had sent an armed guard of soldiers to accompany us home, and they brandished their burning torches proudly to light our way. It had not taken me long to find him after I had made my way out of the dungeons. Just as I had emerged from the small entrance in the ground the colonel had come rushing forward, overrun with apologies before he had even caught his breath, and in one unending sweep he had collapsed onto his knees and pressed his face into the dusty earth, finally coming to a halt before begging for forgiveness. But after I had coaxed him up from the dirt everything was soon righted and resolved, for I knew very well that the fault in my protection lay with no one but myself.

Glancing behind, I looked back down through the valleys to see if there was another small party of glittering lights below us, but yet again I was greeted by the growing nothingness of the night. I sighed quietly, disappointed. I wasn't sure how far the Fierce Deity was behind us, or even if he was following us at all. For all I knew the soldiers might have decided that it would be best to wait until tomorrow to send him back to the manor. I understood that he would not have been allowed to come with us – there had to be at least some semblance of safety in our proceedings – but it nevertheless felt strange not to have him by my side and not to know where he was or what he was doing.

Trailing my eyes back to the manor, I thought of the snowy trail of footprints that had led me back to the Fierce Deity this morning. At least then there had been a path to follow, a tangible trace of his existence in the new light of the morning. He had told me so many things today, so many secrets about his history and his past, that I almost didn't know how to make any sense of them. It had all seemed so clear and vivid before, so easily understood and comprehensible, but without his presence nearby it felt as though every detail had been consumed by the dark, gloomy miasma hanging around me.

"Is everything all right, princess?" Impa asked abruptly.

I jolted in my saddle, her voice jolting me back towards the raging light from the nearby torches, but I shied away again as a frustrated sigh escaped my mouth. It was almost too bright for me to bear. "I'm just tired, Impa," I replied, rubbing my eyes. "It's been a long day."

"We're almost home," she said reassuringly. "Not long now."

I mustered a faint smile in agreement, and with one final look and one final affirmation of exactly the same view as I had seen before, I resolved to keep my eyes firmly on the dim candle-like flames of our destination ahead and away from the shining glare of the burning pitch beside us.

When we eventually entered through the gates and had the horses taken away to their stables, I bid everyone goodnight and went straight to my chambers, exhausted by the day's events. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but it wasn't long before I was greeted by a throng of tired maids and sleepy servants who must have been dragged from their beds due to our sudden arrival. As we entered into the north wing they fussed around my heels and insisted that they must help me prepare for the bed like they would do ordinarily if their majesty was retiring for the day, swearing that their duty to the crown was far more important than getting a few more hours of sleep.

But I could feel my temper becoming more restless with every request, rearing its angry head as it tried to rise above the swarming pests tugging it to and fro, and the reins holding everything in were slowly being forced from my hands. Through gritted teeth I made the politest refusal I could manage and ordered them to pay strict attention to the soldiers who had been travelling with us instead.

"Impa will attend to any needs I may have, so please carry on with your duties and see to the provision of the knights. I'll be able to cope by myself on this occasion, I assure you."

Without waiting for their reply I hurried on and walked away from them as quickly as I could without breaking into a run. There was a brief pause behind me, standing, I imagined, in a rather bewildered huddle, but in spite of my order it wasn't long before I heard some of them scuttling after me. Resisting every urge to spin on my heels and bark my order again, I kept walking and as soon as I approached my chamber door I slid inside and bolted the lock before anyone else could enter.

Resting my back against the thick oak door, I closed my eyes and listened to the arrested hiss of their shoes scuffing the stones, waiting for the moment of peace and quiet when the maids would finally withdraw and retreat. Eventually their hushed whispers faded with a soft patter down the hallway, and I shrugged my winter robes over my shoulders and kicked off my warm boots, not caring about the state of the fabric or the likelihood of creases in the morning. As my fire had not been lit today, the prickly chill of the night began nipping at my exposed skin and so I wasted no time in drawing the fur-lined collar of my nightgown tight around my neck and shoulders, fastening it securely around my waist. I then shook my hair out of its clasp and crawled under my heavy blankets, eventually dropping my head down into my pillow.

However, sleep refused to grant me any respite. No matter how hard I tried to surrender myself to my exhaustion, the image of the Fierce Deity's dejected features sunk down into my line of vision time and time again, staring miserably at me from behind his prison bars as if his sad, bruised face had been etched onto the back of my eyelids. I tried to blink the vision away but his face never wavered; it remained steadfast in the darkness, lurking where I had no choice but to enter. I even tried to push him away with thoughts of Link, but that only prompted the Fierce Deity to recount the words he had spoken in the dungeon.

"_You love me?"_

"_What about your hero?"_

"_I can't take it anymore, not knowing what's mine and what isn't; I can't – we can't carry on like this.__"_

"_You need to understand that I can't be what you want me to be."_

I scrunched my eyes shut against the ensuing waves of slight nausea, praying that the words would fall flat and stop wheeling round my head like a spinning coin. But they only gained a more dizzying momentum.

"_She was someone like you. She knew what she was getting herself into. I told her many times that following me would only lead to her death, but she came anyway. She died by my hand, but I had no choice."_

"_I was king of an entire continent, and yet here you are__, __sitting beside me like I was just another human being. __How can you sit there so quietly knowing that these hands could crush you in seconds?"_

Forcing my eyes open, I sat bolt upright and he vanished immediately.

"Damn him."

As I waited for the world to carry on in its silent slumber, I held my head in my heads. Then, once I felt able to let go, I drew my knees up to my chin and sighed. Did I really love him? I knew this morning I thought I did. Now I wasn't so sure. There was no denying that the Fierce Deity had changed the way I thought about love, but it wasn't some strange metamorphosis or projection of feeling anymore, I was certain of that. What I felt for Link and what I felt for the Fierce Deity were now two very different things. The problem was that if I professed to loving Link, then what in Din's name did I feel for the Fierce Deity?

I couldn't make any sense of it. Only hours ago I had resolutely decided to choose Link over the Fierce Deity, yet this morning my obligation to love and protect him had practically melted away with the sunlit snow. I knew what I had to do, and I knew how I should be feeling. All I wanted to know was _why_ I had done such a thing in the first place.I shuddered again in shame at how disgracefully brazen and reckless my desire had been today. My own skin had felt like it was suffocating me, and it was like I had thrown away every single scrap of reason and restraint to the dogs, to rid myself of such inconveniences. I had even forgotten that I possessed any sliver of virtue and honour at all. What horrified me more was that never in all my years had I felt such an intense sensation consume me so completely, and Link hadn't been the one to share it with me.

Still, there was one thing that was hiding under all those layers of humiliation, one thing I could certainly not forget. It was that sense of exciting exhilaration, that thrill that seemed so entirely lacking by comparison in the relationship Link and I shared. Perhaps it was because I had been none the wiser about what being _in love_ could really mean, and considering the vast difference in the Fierce Deity's actions, it was entirely possible that Link hadn't either. We had been quite content with the way we lived our lives together, but it was clearly very evident that both of us had been living in blissful ignorance about how our feelings could truly be… articulated.

But as I tried to remember a time when Link and I had ever felt the need to express ourselves in that way, my memory could offer me nothing in return. What, then, was the difference between Link and the Fierce Deity?

I ran my fingers over my neck, the god's red marks now cold to the touch. Link had never been quite so bold to leave such stinging evidence of his affection. He was far too cautious and wary of Impa's strict reprimand to even contemplate such action. Then again, they had been perhaps a greater source of stress and anxiety today than the Fierce Deity himself, and so maybe Link had been wise to spare me the embarrassment.

"Never again," I mumbled quietly.

But then another thought struck me. To feel so ashamed and degraded, that surely couldn't be the right type of love to follow…

I cast my mind back to when my relationship with Link had begun, thinking fondly of when he had stormed into my room unexpectedly less than half a year ago. But was that really the beginning? I had known long before then how dearly I cared for him, probably ever since my days masquerading as a Sheikah in the dark days of Ganondorf's rule. Yet neither of us had ever been in a position to act upon our growing regard for each other.

Two wars had kept Link and I firmly apart, and seven years twice over had almost been too much for me to bear. With so many intervening years my feelings for Link would have been completely exhausted had he not reappeared to save Hyrule a second time, and even then I had resolutely denied that he could have been the same man I had lost. I smiled as I remembered my utter refusal to accept him at first, thinking that it was too good to be true that Link had actually returned to me. It had taken him to shove the Ocarina of Time in my face before I could even start to acknowledge that he and the new saviour of Hyrule were in fact one and the same. How naïve I had been then…

But while I had been stubborn and more than a little childish before, it was clear to me now that even before we said 'I love you' in perfect unison that night we were already long past the border between friendship and mutual affection. It had been a messy and awkward reunion to be sure, but we were so well rehearsed in our feelings that we had formed a bond that had been, up until then, so desperately unrealised, and perhaps, to some extent, partially fabricated by our own frustration and separation. We had been _in love _with each other without each other. There had been no time for those nervous yet rewarding moments of bold uncertainty, and we had been leaps and bounds beyond those first tentative steps that led into other's unknown personal freedoms. It was like we had been lovers all our lives without really having lived it at all.

That was it; that was the difference.

But somehow I couldn't let myself feel relieved. That wasn't the end, not just yet. I had still committed those awful acts against Link, and I would still need to work them out. But now was not the time.

Rolling onto my side, I tried to sleep once more. Thankfully there was nothing there to greet me except the black void of the dream world, and I smiled briefly into my pillow.

I wasn't sure if I had slept or not, but I opened my eyes to the long serenade of a lone wolfos howl gliding smoothly into my ears. It was not often I heard such a cry during the night, but whenever I did there was only one thought that ever came rushing back to me. I would never forget the day when Midna had returned to my little prison together with that strange yet extraordinary creature in tow. I had long been on the verge of losing hope that any saviour would return to Hyrule, but as soon as I saw him standing there in the doorway there had been something about the beast's eyes, those bright, blue eyes that shone like the sparkling waters of Lake Hylia, which stirred something deep in my heart. It was as though the face of an old, dear friend was looking back at me across time and space against impossible odds, and even though I believed that Link had been lost to me back then, I would always remember that surge of hope I felt because my heart had swelled in exactly the same way when I had first set eyes on him as a young, misplaced Kokiri in the castle courtyard.

Link had never ceased to amaze me with the way he could change his body and his appearance. Yet every time he changed he was always there underneath it all, just waiting to re-emerge when the time was right, just like he was now. And in that moment the Fierce Deity's face flashed across my thoughts again, and I sighed once more in irritation.

I still couldn't quite understand how much of the Fierce Deity's behaviour was his own. Was Link there in everything but his consciousness? Or was he locked away deep behind the mask? Link had said that he experienced the god's emotions just as the Fierce Deity did, but that passive reception of feeling stood in stark contrast to those fleeting, crippling moments when Link seemed to have near-complete control of the Fierce Deity's body…

It made me wonder what the Fierce Deity might have been like as a living man. He had told me that he had been brutal and heartless, and in that respect I didn't doubt him for a second. On the other hand, I refused to believe that his real self was any worse than Ganondorf or Zant, for they were truly the most heartless and cruellest of men to ever have walked the torn earth of this world, and despite what he had said about building a nation out of blood and rotting corpses, there was still a part of me that couldn't accept the Fierce Deity bearing the same spirit of evil malevolence and ill-will. It was so difficult to tell. One moment he seemed a giant with the power to kill pulsing through his fingertips, and the next he could be hanging his head in crushing defeat as if the entire world had just ended. None of it made any sense.

I then thought of the woman he had mentioned. Had she been the one to temper his anger and steer him out of troubled water? I was curious to know how I had earned such a comparison to her, but he had said so little about her other than how she died. Perhaps she had been his lover, maybe even his wife. I swallowed hard. Would he bring death to Hyrule's doors in the same way he brought death to her and his kingdom?

"He never said where his kingdom was…" I mused aloud, and I imagined briefly what it must have been like to rule an entire continent while keeping a just and steady hand over all its affairs … "Wait, an entire continent?"

This could not wait until tomorrow. Flinging back my covers, I forced every feeling of fatigue aside and scrambled onto the floor, hopping here and there as I hoisted my boots back onto my feet. A reign like that must surely have been recorded somewhere in history, even if it was just an old legend. Majora, too, must also have been documented at some stage in ages past, and if I could find something useful about either of them then I might be able to help the Fierce Deity just like Link had said. Then I could finally put an end to all of this.

Grabbing my candle, I slipped out of my room and headed straight for the library and the records vault beside it. The library itself was relatively small compared to the one that used to occupy the east wing of the castle, but the records vault contained every document and every scroll that had been saved from the wreckage after the castle had collapsed. I only hoped that whatever I was looking for hadn't been lost.

Fortunately the vault was not far, but as I passed through the deserted hallways the odd echo of commotion from another part of the manor kept bringing me to a halt. They were often nothing more than a sporadic shuffling of feet or a hiss of hushed voices, perhaps the servants finally going back to their quarters to sleep, but I nevertheless picked up my pace, keeping a light step and my candle hidden behind the back of my hand in order to keep my own actions from arousing any passing suspicion.

I entered the library easily enough first – it had no documents of national importance and so was rarely locked – to check through its limited contents as an initial sweep. I thumbed through the worn and tattered leather bound covers for anything of interest. Many of the books were in appalling condition, the pages swollen with the dank moisture of the room or torn across whole chapters, and I wished that they could have been cared for in the same way as the castle's books had been looked after. To be sure, even the castle library had had its share of dog-eared manuscripts, but I certainly didn't remember the shelves playing host to a plague of mould and mildew.

"One of these days," I said thinking aloud, "I'm going to employ a scribe to copy all these down again."

Everything was useless, just as I had suspected. As I brought the faint light of my candle over each spine, it seemed that nothing went any further than Hylian lore, and from what little else that was legible, it appeared to be only more of the same old stories. Titles such as 'The Northern Palaces', 'Tales of the Northern Hylian Islands', and 'The History and Formation of Death Mountain' lined my vision, their frail gold-leaf letters all but erased by the passage of time.

I would have to enter the records vault, but due to the increasing rarity and importance of its interior the doors were under tight lock and key, and those keys were kept safe in my study all the way over in the east wing of the manor.

"This is going to require a little more stealth and effort than I thought."

* * *

**AN: I am so sorry this took so long again. Really, I am. Finishing up my degree took up surprisingly more time than I had anticipated, so please accept my most humble apologies. Thank you to everything who kept telling me to hurry up and update though (and thank you also, as ever, to everyone who reviewed the last chapter). It does make a difference, honest! I will, however, endeavour to have more regular updates from now on, as I really want to get this whole story finished by the end of the summer. This has gone on for too long (nearly two years now!) because of my horrific updating skills, and I really need to get it done and dusted.**

**I struggled with this chapter a bit, I have to admit (hence the waiting time) - I didn't want it to feel too repetitive to previous chapters, but I also wanted Zelda to really think about the difference between her relationships, so I hope it wasn't too bad. Your feedback would be most welcome :)**

**Until the next chapter (which I really hope won't be too long this time!), Perfect Soldier 01**


	14. Chapter 14: Resignation

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 14: Resignation**

* * *

I made my way quickly and quietly towards my study, grateful that most of the activity since our arrival had died down. Nearly everyone seemed to be tucked away in their chambers, and the quiet, rhythmical tap of my boots against the flagstones were the only sounds audible for quite some time. Then again, since the sun had fallen low in the bowel of the mountain pass and slid behind the woods of Ordona in the distance, time had become something inconsequential; for all I knew the maids and servants might be rising any moment to begin their morning chores, and the first light of day could be waiting just beyond the mountaintops. Any number of doors could be opening within seconds, but while the cover of night prevailed I carried on, trying my best to stave off any signs of fatigue.

Eventually I reached the staircase that would take me down to the main entrance hall. I would easily be able to gain access to the east wing from there, but the entrance hall was a large, open area with doors and corridors feeding into it from all directions. It also had two levels, making it the perfect place to get caught if you weren't paying attention. The amount of times Impa had discovered me as a child eavesdropping from the balcony were too numerous to recount. Even now I sometimes felt the temptation to stop and listen inside another's blind spot, but these days my ears had very little use for stolen gossip. I was not so ignorant of Hyrule's affairs now that I dealt with them directly. During the days of my father's reign, however, it had been crucial to piece together every scrap of information I could find, especially when he was entertaining important guests away from the castle.

A smile grew on my lips as I remembered my first encounter with Link. I had been on one of my many little espionage escapades that day, and even after all my practice at evading Impa, dodging the guards and learning the routine of all the household staff, I was still caught by a small, unassuming boy who had never before even stepped outside the confines of Kokiri Forest, let alone inside the castle grounds. He had taught me to never underestimate the power of surprise, as all the planning in the world would count for nothing if I couldn't accommodate for rogue intruders. Since then I had learned to always be vigilant of my surroundings, and just before the onset of Ganondorf's tyranny it was a lesson that couldn't have come soon enough.

Still, I hoped that all those years of care and attention would serve me well now and prevent any chance meeting in the hallways. I knew that my authority as princess would be able to fend off prying eyes if my training did inevitably fail me, and that I would be able to invent some urgent matter that needed my immediate attention and make the excuse stand long enough for me to escape. But I also knew that gallivanting around at such an hour in nothing more than my nightgown would not be looked upon kindly, even if my nightgown did in fact cover more flesh than any of my day dresses. Not when there was a whole squadron of knights and soldiers stationed here, and definitely not when I was heading in the general direction of Link's chamber. I was well aware that our relationship wasn't exactly the best secret we had ever tried to keep, and while we strove to keep it as private as possible, the thought of all the exaggerated rumours potentially running like wildfire through the halls tomorrow morning was enough to kindle a red handed flush on my cheeks.

Nevertheless, the chill in the air soon brought my thoughts back to the task at hand. I was certainly now regretting not having brought a cloak with me, not only for the sake of decency but also for the warmth it would have generated. The torches in the hallways were all but extinguished with nothing more than a few burning embers smouldering away inside each fireguard, and the only constant source of light and heat was from my ever-dwindling candle. I shivered as I drew my candle closer, hoping to garner at least a little benefit from its small flame.

Peering back over my shoulder, I turned my attention to the stairwell in front of me and strained my ears to pick up even the slightest of murmurs. I was met with little, if any, commotion at all, and so I started the slow descent, ever wary of my candle's light stretching too far round the curved walls and the echoing step of my boots. Much to my relief, the hallway at the foot of the stairs remained deserted, and it was only a short walk to the entrance hall.

I approached it cautiously, as entering from the back of the room on the upper level meant that I would be blind to what lay at either side as well as below. Creeping closer, the two grand staircases opened out before me, arching round either side of the room with their dark banisters twisting and curving in an elaborate pattern until they graced either side of the south door. In between lay the balcony that looked down over the hall below, flagged at either side by two identical stone statues of the Triforce.

All I had to do to enter the east wing was slide round the corner on my left and dash along a landing very similar to the one I was currently standing in. It wasn't difficult, but I swallowed hard and lowered my breathing regardless. Checking briefly behind me again, I crouched low and listened. All was still hushed and silent so I scurried to the end of the hallway and glanced round the corner. Empty. I then turned left and hurried along the corridor, keeping low just to make sure my candle didn't throw my shadow across the room unnecessarily. Once I was safely out of the entrance hall, I straightened up and resumed a quick but light pace through the remaining stairwells and passageways.

The east wing was considerably emptier than either the north or the west wings, and so my journey was made considerably less problematic. Before I knew it, Link's chamber had come up on my right, and I found my stride growing less hasty than before. My eyes trailed across the door, staring at it sadly as if out of deference for his absence, and I would have paused outside had I not forced myself to keep walking towards the task at hand. This was no time to be hovering outside an empty room, and with a renewed vigour in my step I vowed there and then that I would remain detached yet empathetic, and resolve the Fierce Deity's problem as soon as I could.

Upon reaching my study, however, I realised that staying detached would be harder than I thought. As I stepped inside the lingering scene of internal chaos made me stop short in the doorway, and the events of yesterday, or maybe even the day before yesterday at this rate, resurfaced vividly in front of my eyes. I waited for the rush of embarrassment to pool in my stomach, expecting my skin to tingle and my eyes to hone in on every detail of misalignment just like before.

Yet somehow the faint glimmer of the moonlight lying gently across the room softened its appearance, dulling my reaction with an eerie stillness. I no longer felt as though my gaze had to be guarded from fear and temptation like a horse on parade, and neither could I see what I had once been so afraid of. Perhaps it was the darkness that hid those finer, more alarming details from my sight, but when the clouds parted in the dark sky, the moon shone down brighter than ever before, illuminating everything in a soothing silver sheen. Everything was as it should be, and aside from the obvious ill-positioning of my desk, I began to wonder how I had managed to exaggerate everything beyond all reasonable proportion.

The light then dimmed, and a great heavenly hand threw another grey curtain across the sky, leaving nothing but my small candle to guide me through the darkness. I chastised myself for having been so ridiculous before, and walked across the room towards the cabinet on the far wall. Opening the lowest drawer, I lifted out its false-bottom and retrieved the small key lying in the centre. There was also a long, narrow panel of wood that ran along the middle of the cabinet, separating its lower and upper sections with a series of small, regular holes among the carved vines and flowers for decoration. Inserting the key into the middle of these unlocked the secret compartment where I kept the records vault key.

"Now we can get started," I whispered quietly to myself as I held the larger key safely in my hand.

Smiling, I replaced the cabinet key in the false bottom and left my study, retracing my steps back to the entrance hall. Adopting a similar stance to before, I ran through the same procedure in my head and waited a few moments to check for any commotion before making a move to return to the north wing.

But just then a trickle of faint and muffled voices from outside leaked into my ears, and before I knew what was happening the doors below were flung open with a cacophony of loud and angry voices that rang painfully into each corner of the room.

"In you go, you scoundrel!" – "Hurry up and close the doors, it's bloody freezing outside!" – "Get inside now!"

A tall man shrouded in shadow stumbled into the hall bound and restrained, and I recoiled in horror, barely believing what I saw. He wore nothing but a white tunic and dark underclothes, now torn and soiled from a messy patchwork of blood, dirt and snow, and had I not seen the bright red and blue markings on his face in the pale light I would have mistaken the Fierce Deity for Link in an instant. Gone were his boots, gauntlets and armour, replaced with heavy iron shackles linking his bare wrists and ankles, now raging with swollen and grazed red sores from the cold. He could barely even keep his balance, and he was bounced from one knight to another as they pushed and jeered at him with cruel whispers, stealing his cap and hanging it in front of his face.

I shivered violently, but for once it wasn't from the cold. Every nerve and every instinct was telling me to run back to the east wing or carry on into the north wing before they noticed, even to hide like a cowering child behind the statue of the Triforce in front of me, but I couldn't run from this, not when he needed my help. I had only seen what had been left behind after the anonymous rabble of boots and fists had had their fun this afternoon, and that in itself had been quite enough to contend with. I couldn't stand by and watch it happen this time.

But when I tried to move I found the connection to my feet had been utterly lost and misplaced somewhere between my brain and the pit of my stomach, and as more soldiers came round to join in the game a whirring and oscillating nausea began clenching tighter and tighter around my throat, paralysing every word or action that might have stopped this wrenching torment. My entire body disintegrated into a numb, mindless object as if it was something I could no longer operate on my own, and the only thing I was vaguely aware of was that my candle had been snubbed out by the wind when they opened the doors.

All I could do was watch the Fierce Deity labour vainly to push the knights aside, shrugging them feebly off his arms and shoulders as he tried to escape the suffocating throng of hands and chains, but it was as though every ounce of ferocious power he once owned had never existed. His movements were lazy, his posture hunched and low, and it was almost like he couldn't even muster the effort to win back his freedom at all. He didn't even seem to make the smallest or lowest of sounds as the soldiers wrestled him to the ground, and the sharp clash of his chains became the only vocalised answer to his punishment.

A knight then stamped down hard on his swollen foot and the Fierce Deity fell to the ground with a loud howl, contorted and bent with pain. I stumbled backward, wincing from his violent curses as my feet finally remembered how to walk, and I reached blindly for the statue beside me for support. But the moment I moved I saw the Fierce Deity lift his head towards me, and for that brief moment time seemed to hold its breath as his eyes rose up the wall, following the line of the stairs. Our eyes met slowly in the dim, night air, and my heart jarred against my chest as we stared at each other across the void. I prayed that he wouldn't recognise me in the darkness, but in that instant I saw the throws of anguish and despair rise from his shoulders, and he suddenly leapt up from the ground, sweeping his body round in a vicious circle as he burst out from under his captors, freeing himself at last.

The guards staggered back in a momentary daze, shocked into silence as they stared dumbly at the Fierce Deity's sudden fervour. With a laboured breath he rose from his knees and stood tall on his own two feet, at least as tall as he could manage, and I wanted to say I saw a look of relief wash over his features as he stared at me, however unlikely it might have been.

Time then began to resume its normal path, and my attention was seized by a chorus of gulped and swallowed whispers as the soldiers followed the line of the Fierce Deity's gaze.

"Y-Your majesty!" they exclaimed one after the other as they bustled into some kind of haphazard and innocent formation.

Eventually their captain stepped forward reluctantly to speak for them.

"Your majesty," he said again, bowing low and apologetically. "Please excuse our –" He paused uncomfortably, evidently searching for a term that perhaps wouldn't allude to their disgraceful behaviour. "– our late arrival. We beg your forgiveness for waking your highness."

"You are forgiven," I said without any sincerity, "although I would rather your prisoner be allowed to walk on his own without your assistance. He's not an animal."

The captain's head jerked up from the floor, perhaps on the verge of a retort, but he quickly stopped himself.

"Yes, your highness," he said unenthusiastically, and he signalled for his fellow soldiers to move back from their captive. "Once again we apologise most sincerely for disturbing you. We shall not detain you any longer. We'll take this man straight to the dungeons as you requested, so please return to your rest. Your majesty can sleep soundly knowing that we will be watching over this villain all night, so please sleep peacefully."

He bowed and turned to go, but he had barely moved two paces when I called for him to wait. Everyone then turned to face me, swinging their heads round in one swift movement like they were all part of the same monstrous head.

"Your majesty?"

"I… Before you take him to the dungeons, I…I would like you to bring him to the library."

"But your majesty!" he protested.

"There is something I need to discuss with him immediately," I said, falling back on the rushed and hasty excuse I had prepared. "And I would like you to release him from those chains. We cannot converse properly if he can barely look at me," I said more forcefully, my gaze flickering more and more toward the Fierce Deity until I barely looked at the captain at all. "You will stand outside until we have concluded our business."

"But he tried to kill you, your highness! We cannot stand idly by and allow your request to take place without our presence by your side at all times!"

"I will not be persuaded otherwise, captain. He is unarmed and with his hands bound he is hardly much of a threat to me. That will suffice."

"Bu –"

"That is an order!" I retorted loudly, hoping desperately that the Fierce Deity would be able to see what I was trying to do for him. "I must speak with him now. It simply cannot wait and I will not have it any other way. Now," I continued in a quieter tone, "please follow me and do as I say."

He paused begrudgingly before he replied, his whole body taut with tension and disapproval. "As you wish, your grace."

At the quick motion of his hand, his company of guards gradually scrambled into action, organising themselves with the same shocked stupor as when the Fierce Deity shoved them out of his way. They removed the shackles at his ankles and he stepped out of them little by little, as though the frozen wastes of the mountainside were still taunting the soles of his feet with its icy, crystalline daggers. Then, picking up the chain that had forced the Fierce Deity into a low stoop, they began climbing the stairs in an enclosed unit, although everyone now took care to the god a wide berth, merely tugging the chain to lead him forward.

Satisfied that they would follow, I led the way. I didn't dare look back at them out of fear that they thought me mad, but I caught a glimpse of the Fierce Deity behind me as I turned the corner into the north wing. I thought I saw a thinly veiled curiosity shining in his eyes as he caught my gaze, but as he drew closer it was clear that what I mistook for hope was in fact an enduring knot of strained exertion. He too didn't seem to be able to make sense of my actions, and in the next moment he returned his eyes to the ground, his weary defeat returning once more.

Turning away, I sighed and pressed on, hoping that once we were alone I would be able to ease his suffering. It pained me to see him so lost and crestfallen, and the thought of him drifting through this world without purpose or even the smallest of hopes swelled thick and fast inside my chest. It was too much, too much for one person to bear alone.

The library doors appeared before us and the captain came forward again, shooting me a nervous and tentative glance of unmasked anxiety as he ordered his men to take the Fierce Deity inside and secure him as best they could.

"Please, you majesty, I'm begging you to reconsider," he entreated as the soldiers returned to the hallway.

"I assure you that I will be quite all right. If I need any assistance I will call for you."

Before he could reply I followed the Fierce Deity inside and closed the door.

He sat in a lone chair facing a table at the wall, his head hanging loosely on his neck, and his hands locked and chained around the chair's spindly arms. If I hadn't known any better I might have thought he had fallen asleep. The vacant stare in his tired yet wakeful eyes said otherwise, however, though even that small observation was difficult to discern from where I stood. Despite a new candle standing on the table beside him, only the thinnest outline of his profile was warmed by a golden orange glow. Instead wide, elongated shadows clung to the lines and curves of his body, making him appear more like a ghostly silhouette than a living, breathing human being.

Taking a deep breath, I approached him slowly where he could see me, although if I come charging toward him screaming and shouting I don't think he would have noticed.

"I'm sorry about this," I said softly.

He didn't reply.

"What in Din's name did they do to you? I'm so sorry."

Again he was silent.

"Please," I said kneeling on the floor beside him. "Speak to me."

I placed a hand over his in an effort to make him register my voice, hoping that he would turn toward me and allow me to see how high the flood of his sorrow had risen within him, but he kept his head down.

"I going to get you out of all this, I promise," I said, starting again. "Are you all right?"

A small, near invisible twitch of his chin shifted the angle of his head a fraction closer, and my heart leapt.

"Does it look like I'm all right?" he rasped hoarsely.

The sound of his pride brought smile rose to my lips. "Can I do anything?"

"The worst has been and gone. There's nothing you can do now," he said, trying to hide the sharp flinches in his brow as he spoke.

"What did they do to you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!"

"It doesn't matter," he said again monotonously. "It's not like this didn't happen earlier."

Closing his eyes, he rolled his head back sluggishly until it rested on the top of the chair and cast his gaze toward the ceiling, his mouth retaining its thin, grim line even as he spoke.

"How can you help me now anyway? You brought me back to a world where I'm forgotten, beaten and ridiculed, where I am no one." In the same languid motion he let his head fall toward me again, and he looked at me sternly from the very core of his eyes. "All that I worked for, all that I lost, none of it matters anymore – none of it even exists! Now I have nothing, so what use is ambition and power when everything just turns to dust?"

"You were not meant to see this happen," I replied cautiously. "No one is meant to see this far into their own future."

Both my hands had now found their way to his wrist where the iron cuff clasped his raw and naked skin. Rough, calloused fingers suddenly grabbed for my hand as he leant forward out of the chair, his chains screeching shrilly as he forced them forward.

"But I have seen this far into my future," he hissed. "What was it all for? Answer me that. What was the point of it all? The men with statues in town squares and monuments dedicated to their name – those are the ones who have lived full and useful lives. Your hero, he will be remembered, I have no doubt. His story will be told down through the ages, recorded for posterity. I might as well have died before I was born if I had known was I going to be forgotten."

I looked down at my knees in quiet exasperation. His bitter words were so heavy with pointed and selfish blindness that I wanted to say to him that most people lived their lives quite happily without accomplishing anything quite so spectacular as single-handedly saving a country from its enemies, and that most were entirely content with sharing their lives with an audience no larger than their own families and loved ones.

"No one is meant to know if they live on or not," I replied, facing him once more as my other hand prized open his claw-like grip and returned the gesture. "As much as I hope my people will continue to look upon me favourably in years to come, I don't know how the tides will change and neither do I want to know. The only thing I can do is be the very best person I can for them and hope that that is enough. Dwelling on such things is of no use to anyone at all."

"But you don't understand what I accomplished, what I did."

"Well that's why I've brought you here," I said more positively as I stood up.

He looked puzzled.

"People may not recognise you now, but that doesn't mean that no one took notice at the time. This key," I continued, bringing it into view, "unlocks Hyrule's record vault. I've looked in here already for anything that might have been useful," I said, bending my hand towards the shelves of books behind us, "but there might be something about you in the vault that could help us."

"Help us with _what_?" he groaned wearily. "Why are you doing this?"

"Does there need to be a reason?"

He shook his head angrily. "History can't help me now. I know what happened – it's right here before my very eyes! - so why tell me what I already know?"

"Enlighten _me_ then," I replied curtly.

"I've told you what you need to know. There is nothing left to tell."

"I don't believe you!"

"You're treading on uneasy ground, princess."

"I don't care!" I cried perhaps a little too loudly.

"I've told you, princess; I have _nothing_ left to say."

"Who was she?" I said accusingly, leaning forcefully into his face as my temper finally shattered. "Who was the woman you compared me to? What about her? You haven't told me about her yet." He tried to look away, but his silence only goaded me to provoke him further. "Was she your wife? Your sister? Your lover? Who was she?!"

"Enough!" he shouted, his wide eyes snarling angrily at me as he thrust his face back at mine with equal might. "Don't you dare speak about her like that."

"Then tell me why I bear a likeness to her."

He sighed and flicked his head toward the table. "Sit down."

I rested against the edge as he requested and crossed my arms expectantly, watching the Fierce Deity open his mouth several times before the words finally fell from his lips.

"She…she was the most wonderful person I had ever –" His voice trailed away as if that didn't do her justice. "She was the most important person in my life. The only woman I had ever loved. And since you cannot take no for an answer," he said, now looking at me with clear disdain. "Majora and I were the bringers of her demise."

"Both of you?"

"It was during one of Majora's final raids on my kingdom," he said, his eyes resuming their restless scrutiny of the space around him. "She was at my side at the very last stronghold. I told her to escape, but she wouldn't leave no matter how hard I tried to make her go. The battle was fierce, but she fought with me to the end. Then I was neglectful. I didn't see that staggering swordsman on the ground, and when I went to embrace her she pushed me away. She took the dagger in my place. It wasn't enough to kill her instantly, but if it was removed she would surely die. She was brave. She told me to put her out of her misery, and so I ripped the blade out from her body and watched her lifeblood pool at my feet. She died in my arms, one minute there, and then gone forever."

He came to a close, ending his tale in the same manner as he began, flat and unfeeling. At no point did his voice waver or become full with the weight of memory or loss, and I stared at him in amazement, wondering how he could possibly recite such a story so coldly.

"I told you it was no use looking in the history books because I know what I must do now."

"What would that be?" I asked, although as soon as the words signalled for him to continue I suddenly became frightened about his answer.

"It's time I took that dagger," he said turning to face me, the tears shining unhidden and unashamedly on his cheeks. "It's time I died."

* * *

**AN: Sorry, this took a few more days to post than I originally thought. I kept fiddling about with the beginning trying to make it more interesting, so I apologise if the first half of this chapter is a bit dull. I just couldn't seem to be completely happy with it (and I'm still not overly pleased with it either). I also think the whole parlay with the captain is a bit forced, so your feedback on that would be helpful (and anything else!). Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon :). As ever, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your words mean everything. **

**~Perfect Soldier 01**


	15. Chapter 15: The Book of Memory

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 15: The Book of Memory**

* * *

"No!" I cried quickly, shaking my head before his words could settle in my ears. "I won't listen to this nonsense again."

"There's nothing left for me here anymore. You said so yourself that no one is meant to see this far into their future, and I don't like what I see!"

"That doesn't mean you have to die though!" I argued, slamming my hands down angrily on the table. "How can you give up so easily? You're all ready to die and have done with it, but the man who sealed you away might still be out there somewhere."

"Don't lie to me!" he roared with equal passion. "I think it's clear to both of us that I'm very much a man out of his own time."

"You're not listening!" I shouted back, too livid to be fazed by the guilty truth I knew all too well. "You've only been here two days – how can we possibly _anything_? Goddesses! Can't you see how I'm trying to help you?" His hooded eyes looked up at me in disbelief. "That's why I've brought you here," I continued with a forced restraint on my voice, "so we can try and find out exactly where you've come from and how you can get back."

He was silent for a moment, his eyebrows contracting again as if he were considering my words carefully in his head, sifting them round and round until he was left with the core of their meaning. For a fleeting second I thought I had won through, and I could even feel my own features loosening with the onset of relief, but then he sighed and shook his head.

"_This_ is why you're like her," he said distractedly. "This is exactly why you're like her."

I opened my mouth with what I thought was a ready reply, but his unexpected answer had struck the stride of my confidence at the knees, and I felt it tumble back down into the pit of my stomach, grazing every surface it touched. Why was it that every time he compared me to this woman I felt beaten and speechless?

"W-Well," I said eventually, not knowing where to look as I crossed my arms. "I hate to think about what she had to put up with."

"She endured too much," he said in a low voice, somehow sounding more distant than before. "That, at the very least, is true."

I hazarded a glance in his direction, expecting him to be eyeing me in eager anticipation with a look that signified how I too had supposedly _endured too much_, but he no longer seemed to be focused on anything at all. Instead I caught the beginnings of a smile cracking through his lips as though he was remembering something dear to him, and I began to wonder whether he had meant anything by his answer.

I straightened up and leant back on my hands, watching and waiting for him to continue, but it soon became very apparent that he had forgotten me entirely. Without breaking my gaze, I reached behind to fetch my extinguished candle, thinking that any moment he would shake himself out of his reverie and turn his attention back to persuading me to end his life, but he remained as still and silent as when I had first entered the room. Carefully relighting my candle, I rose from the table in order not to disturb him, took the vault key from my pocket and walked quietly to the other end of the library towards the adjoining door that linked it with the records room, leaving the Fierce Deity alone with his thoughts.

Everything seemed to come back to this mysterious woman. I dared not ask her name out of fear that, by some divine and mocking coincidence, she and I shared more than just certain personal traits… But the more he spoke of her the more I realised that he too was perhaps suffering from the same wistful estrangement as I was, recognising beloved mannerisms in me just I had done with him. We were no better than each other, hemmed in on all sides by the same invisible forces that had brought us unwittingly together.

Yet he was ready to deny himself what he could have easily conquered and taken advantage of, to willingly repay what he had stolen with his own life, and allow me the chance to live without oppression or subjection to his haughty desires. Even Link had never proposed such a drastic and irreversible proposition to save another, and I would have laughed if I had been told two days ago that this proud and arrogant god could be so selfless. But now the full manifestation of his honourable and noble spirit was enough to fill my heart with unbearable sorrow and remorse, making me all the more determined to keep him alive, safe, and loved like he mattered in the world. I was the only one who could support him now, and if that meant loving him like she had done, then so be it. I had made my decision, and I would not let him die.

I then came to the door and the lock opened with a low clunk as I turned the key. Stepping inside, the low light gradually fell back into the shadows as my candle filled the room with a faint, hazy glow. The large square room was almost full to bursting with towering stacks of books and reams of scrolls, all bundled together against trunks and crates that were strewn across the room, lying one on top of the other in rather precarious arrangements. I only hoped I could find what I was looking for without having to disturb everything.

Setting my candle on top of a nearby chest, I prized open the lid of its neighbour and browsed quickly over the titled spines inside. Nearly all of them were royal manuscripts, detailing various laws and decrees that had been passed down through the ages. I tried the next one instead, but they too were solely concerned with more codes of conduct and rules and regulations.

"At least there might be some sort of order to this mess if these have been put together," I muttered.

I began working my way round the room, stopping every so often to suppress a yawn as my desire for sleep grew more and more impatient. I came across more old laws, treaties with other nations, histories of the royal family, and letters from long-since deceased monarchs, some of which even contained a few pressed flowers or small paintings of lively faces I had only seen stiff and rigid on the castle walls inside the crisp scraps of paper.

Eventually I found what I was looking for, tucked away behind everything else. It was an old, plain chest, little more than a wooden box, but inside lay what I had held most dear as a child. A large smile crossed my lips as I pulled the familiar books out of the chest, and their golden covers decorated with fabled beasts and fantastical creatures gleamed brightly in the candlelight as though they hadn't aged a single day.

"The Dream Island of Koholint, Tales of Holodrum and Myths of Labyrnna, The Legend of the Minish… I knew these well."

I dug deeper and deeper, placing each book carefully beside me in a teetering tower of nostalgia and childhood fantasy, searching for those titles I didn't recognise and those stories that had been kept hidden from me for fear of nightmares and ghoulish monsters lurking in the dark clutches of the dream world. Gradually I built two piles, separating the books I had long since memorised from those that I had never even heard of, until I came to the last book.

Unlike the rest, there was no grand decoration on the spine or the front, and it was covered in nothing but plain leather. Lifting it out for a closer look, I saw that the cover was thicker than many of the others, almost as if it had been rebound at some point, but even this new cover was worn through at the corners and along the edges, and there was nothing that gave any hints as to what tales it held inside. Opening it in the centre, the book's antiquity was made all the more apparent when I found the thin and yellowed pages full of small, cryptic symbols, the remnants of a dead language that I couldn't recognise or understand. It could have been an ancient variation of Hylian, but the letters were so curved and removed from its modern counterpart that it made it impossible to decipher.

Never before had I encountered a language like it, but while it was practically of little use to me like this, I placed it with the other unfamiliar books regardless and carried them back to the Fierce Deity. There weren't as many as I had hoped for, but just under a dozen or so books were better than none at all.

"Here," I said, placing them gingerly on the table in front of him. "We're going to look through these and see if we can find anything."

However, as I turned to face him the Fierce Deity's eyes were closed in a deep slumber, his lips slightly parted as he slept. He almost looked peaceful, and I smiled at him, remembering the rare afternoons I had caught Link snoozing at his desk after a long day of training with the knights. But then I saw the ruins of the thin, silvery columns on his cheeks, cruelly betraying his gentle serenity with a constant reminder that underneath all his godly strength lay a mere man who was still mourning the loss of his lover, as helpless against the cruel hand of fate as the rest of us.

Resuming my place on the floor beside him, my compassion got the better of me. Until his hands were unlocked he would be forced to bear the pitiful evidence of his defeat for all to see, and I wouldn't stand by and fuel the degrading humiliation he had already received. The very least I could do to help begin rebuilding his self-worth was to dry his eyes with the edge of my sleeve and erase the last visible remnants of his sorrow as best I could.

But as I drew my hand over the Fierce Deity's soft, jagged markings, his eyes fluttered half-open, blinking away the last drowsy moments of sleep as he stirred.

"I thought you had gone," he murmured before I could apologise. "Why are you not asleep yet?"

"I-I was looking for books that might help us," I said, a little surprised by his response. "I'm sorry that I woke you."

A sudden chill in the air made me shiver.

"Are you cold?" he said abruptly.

"What?"

"Are you cold?" he said again, slowly emphasising each word like I was a small and ignorant child.

"N-No," I answered nervously, cursing silently when I shivered again.

"Sit," he ordered dully, rattling the chains at his wrist and nodding downward to his knees before closing his heavy eyes once more.

Realising that he was in no mood for another argument, I rose from the floor slowly, hesitating slightly as the full weight of his meaning endeavoured to stall an easy approval of his instruction. If he himself meant to keep me warm, then this would possibly be the closest we had even been.

"I don't bite, princess, so sit down."

I swallowed hard. I was doing this for his sake, I reminded myself, for his sake alone.

Arranging myself in as elegant a manner as possible, I did my best to crush any lingering doubts and I sat back lightly across his lap, my head scarcely reaching his chin as I rested against his shoulder. It was quite possibly the strangest sensation I had ever felt. His warmth pulsed straight through me as though I had stepped back into the volcanic chasm of Death Mountain, and it washed over me in line with the steady, pounding drum of his heart, like a furnace was living inside every cell of his body.

Without thinking I huddled closer, letting him banish the icy claws of the night to the farthest recesses of the room where they couldn't bother us. But as I shifted above him, even the tiniest of twitches and trembles seemed alive with vigorous tenacity. I could feel every muscle, every rib and bone beneath his skin, changing constantly as they worked and stretched to accommodate me, and it appeared as though the very landscape of his body was been pulled out of shape from underneath me. I suddenly thought how I must feel to him, this heavy, squirming nuisance, and my self-consciousness brought every limb to an abrupt standstill. But then his legs shifted to let mine dangle diagonally against his and ease my comfort, and every twisting turn was gradually translated into an ever increasing blush on my cheeks.

"I'm sorry I can't do any more. This is the best I can do being locked to a chair," he said bluntly, raising his chains for added emphasis.

"T-That's fine," I muttered, hiding my shades of discomfort in the crook of his neck as I positioned my hands and arms on his torso with timid delicacy. "You don't have to do this."

"I did this for her once," he mused. "She wasn't too impressed by my offer either."

"Tell me about her," I asked hopefully, hushing another yawn while I tried to resist the enticing fall of my eyelids against the soothing sound of his corporal tempo.

"She was a princess like you," he began, his voice resuming that strange and unaffected tone from before. "Our marriage had been arranged since our infancy, but we never grew to like one another. She didn't like my pride, and I didn't like her insolence, but we were forced together nonetheless."

His chest then heaved me back and forth as a sigh rolled over the top of my head.

"I never treated her like my wife and she hated me for it, and I had her sent away to one of the farthest outposts of my kingdom where she wouldn't be a hindrance to me. Then I became involved in the struggle with Majora, and she was taken from me in one of his first ever sieges. I felt enraged that he had dared to steal my possession, and so I raided his lands to bring her back.

"But her kidnapping, and the gruelling expense I made to rescue her, caused a change in us both, and it was on our way home that I offered to keep her warm. She refused me flat," he said chuckling, and I imagined that his sad and nostalgic smile had returned to his face. "She didn't want anything to do with me, but I wasn't about to let her freeze after all the trouble I had gone to rescue her. She raised all manner of hellish curses before she settled down."

He paused, his breath low and easier than before, and I could tell that he was remembering more than what he was relating.

"We got on better after that," he said, the flat tone of recollection resurfacing in his voice as he continued. "I didn't chide her so often, and she paid me more deference than before; I started regarding her as a companion instead of a possession. We still didn't see eye to eye on every occasion, but –" He cleared his throat, his shoulders sliding backward as he lifted his head to the ceiling. "But I… I came to love her in a way I never thought possible. It wasn't enough for her though."

"Why not?" I murmured impulsively, growing ever more aware of an aching melancholy tearing at the edges of my composure.

He swallowed, his throat clenching awkwardly against my temple as if it were wincing in deathly trepidation of the words I had implored him to articulate. "H-Her –" He faltered. "Her dying words," he replied thickly. "She said to me, 'I won't hold you back anymore. Be rid of me so you can rule the world, just like you planned.' Then she smiled, and then… and then she was gone. She never told me, in all our years together, that she loved me, and her last breath was no exception."

I was overcome.

"Of course she loved you!" I cried in a choked whisper as I sat up to face him, my heart too full and trembling with grief to stay silent any longer. "How can you be so blind?"

He looked away. "Such thoughts are of no comfort to me now."

"But everything you just told me," I answered softly, taking his face in my hands. "Everything you said, it wasn't just describing how you fell in love with her. If she didn't love you, she wouldn't have changed, she wouldn't have let you keep her warm, and she wouldn't have told you to go on and fulfil the dreams she knew you cherished. She sacrificed herself to save you. There is no greater act of love than that."

His eyes then seemed to fracture, his breath catching in the back of his throat, and I leant forward to embrace him, holding him ever closer when the telling quake of his shackles thwarted the reaching arch of his arms.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Damn it all."

"Rest for a while, go back to sleep."

"Don't go."

"I won't."

"Thank you."

He leant back, allowing us to settle into each other again, he resting his cheek on the top of my head, and I keeping my arms hung loosely around his neck. And almost immediately every little movement I had noticed earlier ceased to trouble me. I thought could hardly even feel him breathe, but when the smooth hum of his voice was replaced with the ever-present pulse of his heart I could still feel myself following the rise and fall of his lungs, lapping against the shore of his chest like the waves of the tide.

Closing my eyes, I prayed that his sadness would soon be relieved, and fell asleep to the rhythm of his body.

Sharp, loud bangs then suddenly tore me from the darkness, and both of us nearly knocked our heads together in clumsy surprise. Squinting in the new morning light, we both turned towards the door as anxious cries bellowed loudly from the other side.

"Princess! Are you all right? Please open the door!"

"Goddesses! I never told them to go away!" I said, recognising the captain's distressed shouts instantly.

"I think you better answer the door," the Fierce Deity jested. "Show them that you're still alive."

"I think I better," I replied, gladdened by the return of his spirits.

Placing my hands on top of his, I extracted myself from his lap and smoothed out my gown and hair before I approached the door, a little sore from having slept so upright. Opening the door, I found the captain in the throes of beginning a new bout of fearful calls, his neck retreating into his shoulders as he readied his fist in midair.

"Your majesty!" he started, staggering back before he accidently mistook my forehead for the door panel.

"Yes, captain?" I said, trying my best to look displeased.

"I-Is everything all right?" he stammered, his mouth flapping without purpose as though he couldn't believe I was still standing there in one piece.

"Everything is fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, we didn't hear you talking for some time, and we thought that…that…"

"That I had been brutally murdered by a man who's locked to a chair? Come now, captain, I hardly think there's any need for such drastic behaviour. Now, if you would excuse us, I still have some vital issues to discuss. Please, go and get some rest, and send for Impa to take your place at the door. She will be able to protect me in the unlikely event of our prisoner breaking free. I would also like you to hand over the keys to our prisoner's locks to Impa when she arrives."

The same disgruntled reluctance I had seen earlier clouded his tired and weary features, but he begrudgingly complied with my wishes.

Shutting the door again, I heard him bark sharp and irritated orders for some of his men to fetch Lady Impa, and I smiled, waiting in eager anticipation for the hour when Impa would be able to tell me the story he would conjure to explain our situation, and what wild accusations he would charge me with.

Meanwhile the Fierce Deity had turned his attention to the pile of books on the table, rotating his neck this way and that to read the titles.

"I can tell you now, I don't think these will be of any use," he said candidly. "But what is this one on top? The one that doesn't have a title…"

"I don't know," I answered as I approached him. "I can't even read what's inside it." Picking it up, I pulled back the thick cover and opened the first few pages for him to have a look. "This wasn't written in Hylian, so there's no telling what it says."

But as his eyes fell on the misshapen block of letters a strange expression formed on his face, an odd mixture of shock, fear and curiosity.

"Did you say there was anything on the cover?" he said without tearing his gaze from the page.

"N-No, nothing," I said hesitantly, looking at the torn corners and edges once more to make sure I hadn't missed anything.

It was then that I saw a glint of gold peeking out from one of the rough edges, so small that only the morning sunlight could have brought it to my attention. I shut the book, snapping the Fierce Deity's eyes upwards as I pulled the torn leather back as far as I prise it open with my fingers. The gold pattern continued.

"This isn't the original cover," I said, unsure why I was beginning to feel so nervous. "There's something else behind it."

Setting it back down on the table, I tore frantically at the broken tears, stretching the holes and forcing them to break apart until the old cover was finally unmasked. The old leather nearly crumbled in my fingers, but eventually two large, round golden eyes stared back at me from within a horned and heart-shaped face, and I suddenly felt trapped and alone. It seemed to stare into my very soul, ripping open the layers of my mind in the same way I had torn open the book, and flooding my heart with such chilling emptiness that I could no longer breathe.

"What is it?" the Fierce Deity cried, almost making me drop the book out of fright. "Show me what it is." I blinked and broke its spell, turning the cover towards him with shaking hands. His face dropped. "Open it to where it was before," he said blankly, his eyes impossible to read.

I did as he requested, mechanically turning the pages until he told me to stop.

"_In that world, some ten million years ago,_" he began,"_that monster lived alone. One day he caught the scent of a creature from beyond. "My time… Make my time move!" he said to the creature. "Time… Rhythm… Dance! This is your only given stage!"the creature replied. For three days and nights the monster continued to dance. On the morning of the fourth day, at the same moment his breathing ceased, the world finally crumbled. In the end, all that was left was his armour._"

* * *

**AN: What's this!? An update on time? Surely not... Yes, yes, lots of blatant name dropping going on in the story books, but I just couldn't resist :). Quite what that means in terms of canon and this story's plot is anyone's guess though! As for the text at the end, I've lifted a combination of dialogue and narrative text from the original short story at the end of the Majora's Mask manga (which is, after all, what I'm basing this whole story all on). What does this mean for the Fierce Deity though? Find out next week! :D (hopefully, if I can keep on schedule!)**

**Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter :). Your continued support is greatly appreciated!**

**~Perfect Soldier 01**


	16. Chapter 16: The Tale of Majora

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 16: The Tale of Majora**

* * *

"…_In the end, all that was left was his armour._"

I stared at him in utter amazement, my ears struggling to contend with the strange, mellifluous liquid of sound pouring smoothly out of his lips. It was a rich and viscous tongue, almost too heavy with an odd, undulating drawl to make any sense. Every word seemed to swell and surge into the next, but at the same time there was something in its tone and timbre that made it oddly familiar, and it nearly sounded like it could be a more poetic cousin to my own modern day Hylian.

"Y-You can read that?" I stammered as a tremor unfurled along the length of my arms.

He looked up with a quizzical and offended arch in his brow. "Of course I can," he said.

"What is it? What does it say?"

"It's my language," he replied plainly. "We never had a name for it. Everyone spoke it so we never had any need to distinguish it from other languages. As for what it means…" He paused, and I held my breath in anticipation. "This is the tale of Majora's Mask."

We stared at each other wordlessly, his answer not making it any easier to breathe than before. Leaning against the table, I sat back in a bewildered daze. To think that such a book had been lying hidden in the Hylian vaults all this time, from an age long before the birth of language and the migration of culture and dialect, that this was actually the book I had hoped to find, the book that would save us and restore the world to its rightful order… It made my head spin.

"How did you come into possession of this?" the Fierce Deity asked abruptly, his voice loud and sharp against the dizzying flurry of my thoughts.

"I-I don't know," I said stiffly. "This is the first time I've ever come across it."

"You've never seen this before?"

"No, never."

A sudden flicker of anxiety burst through his eyes. "I'm amazed such a thing has survived," he replied with quiet surprise.

I was on the verge of repeating his sentiment when I realised that there was something in his tone that sounded a little displeased and indifferent, as though he were in fact dreading this remarkable discovery instead of willingly embracing it.

"How old is it?" I asked hesitantly, curbing the extent of my enthusiasm.

His eyes narrowed as he turned away, a sigh heavy on his lips. "It doesn't matter how old it is. The tale… the tale makes it all very clear."

His last few words were nothing more than an angry growl, pushed hard and low through gritted teeth, and his whole body suddenly seemed to coil inward, tense and taut with the full ferocity of the past. His feet shrunk back underneath his seat as his head sunk low on his chest like he was about to brace himself for something horrible, and his fists were clenched over the arms of the chair like haggard, white claws, shaking violently as though letting go would send him hurtling backwards into the unrelenting torrent of time and space, sweeping him away from his very existence.

I didn't want to ask him what it had said, but I could feel the question burning painfully on the back of my tongue, daring me to deliver the cruel blow that would force him from his cowering shell and push him into the deluge of his past. Then his eyes flashed up towards me, catching the words from my mouth before I had even drawn breath, and he sighed again, his limbs falling slack as he reluctantly embraced the brutal yet inevitable fist of memory looming above his head.

"It begins like this," he said slowly, and he related the whole story to me again in words I could understand, only stumbling over the occasional mistranslation.

_Ten million years ago_.

"But that can't be possible," I said as the number echoed meaninglessly around my head, too large for me to comprehend. "It can't be. I-It must be an exaggeration – like 'Once upon a time', or 'A long, long time ago'. Ten million years…" I muttered, as though saying them again would make it easier to understand. "They must have meant something else."

"Maybe," he muttered feebly. "Now do you understand why it would be better if I died? You can't send me back in time ten million years, princess, no matter how hard you play your ocarina."

My ears pricked, not entirely certain they had heard him correctly. "What did you say?"

"I said you can't send me back in time. You might have turned the world back once, but I don't think you're quite capable of this."

"How do you know about the Ocarina of Time?" I said stepping closer, my arms crossed with curiosity.

His eyes widened, rising along the minute gradient of his eyebrows as they looked up knowing and expectant, and he opened his lips as though ready with a response. But then his mouth hung open, empty and silent as his forehead creased in bewildered perplexity.

"I don't know," he replied, completely mystified. "I really don't – how do I not know?"

"Do you know from Link?" I suggested.

"I… I suppose I must…"

"Just like you can speak Hylian and translate your language without so much as even a trace of difficulty?" He nodded absentmindedly without thinking, like he hadn't really heard me at all. "It never occurred to me that you would have spoken another language."

"I didn't even realise I was…" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Damn it!" he hissed, shaking his wrists and chains violently in frustration as he slammed his fists down on the wooden arms. "Damn it."

I stepped forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. To be so far away from home, from time itself, I wondered briefly whether this was how Link had felt when he had been pulled from his world of light and safety into a world of darkness and chaos in the blink of an eye, separated from all he loved, a boy trapped inside a man nobody knew or recognised. All he had was my ocarina, the only tie that could bring him closer to finding his home again.

"That's it!" I cried, clapping my hands together as he flinched in surprise. "The Ocarina of Time is the key!"

He rolled his eyes and snarled in irritation. "I've told you already –"

But I wouldn't let him finish. "You said that you were sealed in your mask by drums, correct? You and Majora were made to dance, dance until there was nothing left of you. It's the music! Don't you see? If music sealed you away, then maybe music can free you again!" I said excitedly, already impatient for his verdict.

He opened his mouth several times as a tumult of reactions flew across his face, disappearing so quickly that it was difficult to discern how he would answer. The smallest of twitches in the corner of his eye or the slightest tremble at the edge of his mouth vanished in an instant, like the flocking talons of his emotions were fighting over the control of his entire body, unable to grasp how he wanted to phrase his reply as he tried to swallow my words.

I wanted him to speak. I wanted his face to light up and mirror the gathering fever of my high spirits, for him to look at me with a shining hope in his eyes, for him to regain the strength I thought he had lost. Most of all, I wanted him to smile again.

The Fierce Deity then breathed deeply, stealing away my own mouthful of air as I awaited his reply, my heart high in my throat. "I… I never thought about it like that before," he said plainly, his eyes cast to the floor.

My heart dropped.

But then a hand reached out and clasped it, catching it before it fell. A grin cracked onto his lips.

"But maybe you're right," he finished.

A rush of excitement flooded through my veins and my hands rose to my trembling mouth as I choked out my relieved and muffled laughter, completely overwhelmed by the growing curve of his smile and the dying presence of his depression. I could even feel tears tugging at my eyelids, and I suddenly felt as though I had been transported back to that fateful courtyard when I had thought that Link and I were going to save the whole of Hyrule from its deadly fate. Two mere children were going to overcome the King of the Gerudos singlehandedly, and I would be able to prove to my father that my gift of foresight had been correct all along.

I had barely been able to contain my soaring pride that day, and even now I could feel it heaving against my ribs, desperate to spread its wings and take to the skies.

I only prayed that this feeling wouldn't follow down the same short-lived path as before.

"What's the matter?" he asked with a crookedly amused arch of his brow.

"Nothing, nothing," I said quickly, reigning back my composure before he thought me completely ridiculous. "Is there anything else in the book that will be useful?" I asked eagerly.

"Perhaps."

"Right, well," I said brightly. "I think we have a very good reason to get you out of those chains now, don't you?" I turned towards the door. "I'll have Impa take you back to Link's chamber so you can rest a while and change your clothes, and after we both have some nourishment we can get to work on translating that book."

Before he could reply I had opened the library door and stepped outside. Impa was leaning on the wall with her arms crossed, and the sight of her old familiar stance in place of the captain's strained anxiety was a welcome change.

"Good morning, Zelda," she said solemnly.

"Good morning, Impa."

"The captain tells me you've been conversing with a murderous and wretched heathen since the early hours of this morning without even a single guard present." I bit my lip and held back a laugh. "He was quite perturbed by your behaviour, and may well have declared you quite mad if it hadn't been treason."

"I'm sure he would have done."

"Care to tell me what you've been doing while you should have been resting?"

"I've been speaking with the Fierce Deity," I said defensively, feeling more uncomfortable than I would have liked. "I've been trying to find a way to free him from his mask."

"Is that such a wise idea, princess?" Impa replied, her tone somehow sounding motherly and accusing simultaneously. "I know that Link's life is on the line, but are you certain this is the right thing to do?"

"Very certain," I said firmly. "He's not deceiving me for his own devices, Impa, if that's what you're worried about. He needs my help, and I want to help him."

"I don't doubt you wanting to help him for a second, Zelda, but you must be more careful. Rumours are starting to fly all around the manor, and no doubt in the mainland as well after what happened yesterday." She looked at me sceptically, and repeated her question again. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. He won't harm me again."

"If you're certain," she replied.

"Now, I trust that the captain followed my orders and handed you the key to the Fierce Deity's chains?" She nodded. "Good. Could you unlock our _murderous and wretched heathen_'s chains and take him to Link's chambers, please? He needs to change his clothes, and I would like a meal to be brought up for him as well. Goddesses know whether the guards afforded him the luxury of fresh food and water and clean clothes."

"Very well."

"When he's ready I'd like you to bring him to my study as well," I said, but her cautioning stare never wavered. "Please, Impa."

Eventually she smiled and took my hands, squeezing them reassuringly. "Be careful, Zelda."

I returned the sentiment and thanked her with a wide and grateful smile, and as I left her to her duties I returned to the north wing, hugging the book of Majora close to my stomach.

I almost couldn't believe that we were so close to saving the Fierce Deity. Everything Link had spoken about was potentially hiding inside these very pages, in these ancient and mysterious words that hadn't been voiced for centuries. I glanced down at the cover again, still reeling with incredulity that such a document even existed. As I stared at those glaring, golden orbs, the same cold emptiness shimmered down my spine like it was drawing me into some unfathomable delusion, but I forced myself to look away before it could drain away every drop of my enthusiasm. I could understand now why someone had bound the book again, and I dared not think about how many unsuspecting readers had been lured into temptation in the wake of the image's evil power.

Then again, that sinister discomfort wasn't all too dissimilar from the feeling I had experienced when I had held the Fierce Deity's mask in my hands. It was by no means the same, but there was a comparable essence of loneliness and resentment that seemed to exude from Majora's eyes.

"_It was almost as if they were two of a kind, those masks."_

Link's words suddenly echoed in my ear, and my excitement doubled. Perhaps there was more to Majora as well. Only time would tell.

I quickened my pace and rushed back to my chamber, running hastily down stretches of empty hallway until I was back safely inside the four walls of my room. As I searched for a new day dress to change into, I saw that the dress I had so carelessly discarded on the floor yesterday had been laid over the corner of my bed, with the creases pushed flat and the sleeves arranged straight against the sides. A fresh pail of water had also been placed in front of my mirror alongside a tray of probably very cold breakfast, as if it had been just another morning, as ordinary and predictable as the rise and fall of the sun. I knew that today was much more important though, and as I began preparing for the day ahead my thoughts were busy anticipating what we might find concealed inside the book.

Before it was lost into obscurity once more, I wanted to write down and preserve everything the Fierce Deity was able to translate, ensuring that neither he nor Majora would ever be forgotten again. The toll of universal ignorance had been heavy on the both of us, and I wouldn't let him pale into insignificance again.

The thought that the Fierce Deity would soon be gone, however, brought an unexpected pang to my chest. Despite our short acquaintance having been founded largely on misguided feelings and dislocated memories, we had formed a kind of easy dependency on each other, and a twist of regret made me realise just how eagerly I was beginning to sprint towards the inevitable conclusion lying before me.

But I shook off the fleeting shiver of sorrow, adamant that nothing would threaten to spoil or dampen my spirits for now, and once I was dressed and refreshed, I picked up the book again and retraced my steps to my study.

When I opened the door, I heard a creaking groan scrape against the floor and found the Fierce Deity on the other side of my desk, pushing it back into the centre of the room by the window. He was still wearing his blood-stained tunic, and he suddenly straightened up when he saw me in the doorway.

"I didn't think you would be here so quickly," he remarked. "I thought I might…"

His voice trailed off awkwardly, and instead he began rearranging the pots of ink and feather quills that had shifted across the desk's surface.

"Thank you," I said, finding his embarrassment somewhat endearing. "Have you eaten anything?"

"A little," he said quietly.

Shutting the door, I went over to join him, intrigued by this change in his behaviour. He was no longer the sad and dejected man who had stumbled into the manor beaten and defeated, but in his place stood someone who seemed like they were clutching the tail feathers of their self-control before it flew away again. His head jerked up and down, watching me approach in a stilted and disjointed motion as though he were afraid of looking at me for too long, and he busied himself intermittently with rustling sheaves of parchment together so that they were straight and precise in front of my chair.

"Don't worry about that," I said, stilling his hands.

He shied away and shifted to the side, the raw and grazed scars of his shackles sliding through my fingers like jagged flints under the torn fabric of his undershirt. I cringed inwardly, and grabbed the base of his wrists before he withdrew them completely. The red sores had welled his skin into a pattern of irregular craters and ridges where the metal cuff had squeezed his skin, and they had already started to bruise a deep purple and sickly yellow.

"I'm sorry about this, I truly am," I said, rubbing his wounds with my thumbs. "I wasn't aware my soldiers were so vicious to their prisoners."

"It's nothing," he mumbled, trembling slightly as my fingertips hovered and revolved over the throbbing welts.

I raised my head hesitantly to catch an uneasy quiver dart across his face.

It was the same look he had given me the moment before he had kissed me on top of the mountain.

I opened my mouth to say something before he could act further, but instead I just let his hands drop and stepped back, motioning for him to take a chair opposite me. He nodded and muttered an agreement, and I inhaled deeply as I began to consider why such a desperate longing had resurfaced in his features. I then cast my mind back to our conversation only hours before, and I realised that maybe, now that he had voiced his feelings for his wife, he was drowning in the sea of his own memory. The wave of history was evidently not the only thing I had unleashed, and just as I had faltered and confused my love for Link with him, perhaps he too was struggling to keep afloat of his reawakened desire for his wife.

"Here you are," I said handing him the book as confidently and unaffectedly as I could, but he received it without looking at me.

While he opened the pages, I sat down and tried not to let my thoughts bother me. Dipping my best quill into some ink, I waited for him to begin.

_The Tale of Majora_

_Within these lines, many moons and long ago,_

_Lies the tale of a most horrible creature._

_It is a monster beyond all compare,_

_And I write this to you, dear reader,_

_To warn you of its cruel cunning,_

_Its malice and its blood-thirsty quest_

_To bring darkness to our fair lands._

_Its name is Majora, the man eater,_

_And I pray to the glorious gods almighty_

_That you will never encounter as I have done_

_This beast most foul; and that you may_

_Live your long years in peace and comfort._

_But now I turn my pen to the tale ahead,_

_So let us begin our journey_

_Into the world of nightmare_

_Where strange, magnificent creatures_

_Lurk in every shadow, a world where_

_Silence and music are bringers of death,_

_And love can no longer bring forth life._

"This author's got a flair for the dramatic," he said, thinking aloud.

He then went on to read the description of Majora, and as I copied down his words I started to see the monster come to life on the page, conjured vividly before my eyes as a towering brute in Hylian script, covered in a mantle of dense hair and scaly hide, with long fangs shooting up and curling down from its snout, and piercing eyes framed by a flame-like crown of arching horns. He spoke of how it used the land as it pleased, devouring entire villages as they challenged its tyranny, every line revealing more and more gruesome details of its exploits and ravenous hunger, and I silently echoed the prayer of the author to the goddesses, imploring them to prevent such an evil creature from ever roaming the earth again.

"_But then a_ –" He stopped and his tone bristled, and I looked up expecting him to have come across a difficult passage to translate, but he cleared his throat and continued quickly, his words becoming more and more forced and unsteady as he went on.

_But then a fierce king rose up to stop the wicked beast_

_And together they battled for many years._

_He was a mighty and powerful warrior,_

_A white giant fabled for his strength and power,_

_Favouring his sword of green and blue._

_Red jaws of revenge circled his face,_

_And he carried death in his white and empty eyes._

_He had conquered a kingdom vast and wide,_

_As ruthless and cunning, as some have said,_

_As the evil man eater himself._

_But the white giant was noble and courageous,_

_And used his sword as a man and knight of his lands._

_Like a god he struck the beast down,_

_Driving him from his land with his fierce sword,_

_And there was much celebration and feasting_

_When Majora the evil one retreated and fell silent._

_But the white king's glory was not to last,_

_For the undying beast returned again_

_Stronger than he had ever been before._

_For years and years their wars reigned,_

_And neither man nor beast could find the triumph_

_They both longed and hungered for._

_Together they were locked in combat,_

_Fighting for all eternity now and to come._

Before he could let me ask any questions, he carried on, moving through every line without leaving me any time to write it down. His pace grew and grew, and the words fell into place effortlessly as page after page he recounted every battle and every defeat, never even stopping for the smallest windows of repose at the end of the verses. I tried in vain to keep up with him, but eventually I set my pen down and listened to the story instead, watching his eyes scan over the page as his mouth followed.

The writer seemed to have a very favourable opinion of the Fierce Deity, and it made me wonder who could have possibly written such an account of him. But as he continued, there seemed to be a distinct change in the style of writing, and the formulaic structure disintegrated into a long and rambling prose, like someone else had taken over to continue the story.

_Yet it was neither time nor combat that defeated these titans of the earth. From a far and distant land appeared a warrior brave and strong with a feather in his hair. He carried a drum and brought much happiness to all who heard him play and sing. He came to visit the fierce king at his court and played him a song that had been passed down through the ages, a song that sung the serenade of time itself to ease the king's weary heart. The white giant danced alone and afraid for three days, longing for death yet striving for victory, but the drums and the warrior's song granted him his wishes, immortalising him in a mask where he would sleep for the rest of time._

_The warrior then visited Majora the man-eater, who had become friendless and lonely while the fierce king slept. Trapped by years of battle and bloodshed, the beast roamed his empty land searching for the one who could be his worthy opponent. From far and wide came challengers who believed that Majora's armour would grant them their heart's desire, but the man-eater played cruel and vengeful games with these men, and they too fell prey to his devouring tongue._

_So in that world, some ten million years ago, that monster lived alone until one day he caught the scent of a creature from beyond. "My time… Make my time move!" he said to the creature. "Time… Rhythm… Dance! This is your only given stage!"the creature replied, and for three days and nights the monster continued to dance. On the morning of the fourth day, at the same moment his breathing ceased, the world finally crumbled. In the end, all that was left was his armour._

_The warrior then took the feather from his hair and it became a blade at the touch of his hand. From Majora's armour he carved another mask and left it there together with the mask of the fierce king so that the man-eater would be lonely no more. Thus the evil beast was vanquished, and peace returned to the kingdoms. Both warriors slumbered as time passed over them, and never again would they wage war and fight each other in battle. Their song is over now, but I pray that this song continues to sing its story through the years to come as a testament to their courage and godly strength. _

_Where one world dies, another is born, a new stage where new life can flourish in the echo of ages past. I now bid you farewell, dear reader, but be glad and merry that your stage will now be full of light and music while the monsters and gods of power sleep soundly in their prisons. Rejoice! For the world around you is new and fresh and living, sprouting strong from the dark mire of evil and bursting forth into a good and righteous future. Rejoice! Let the music sing and the wine flow, for the beast and king are dead! _

The Fierce Deity closed the book blindly in a slow and shaken daze, as though he couldn't believe what he had just read, and for a moment he simply stared at the back cover.

"A-Are you all right?" I ventured.

"Is this how I am to be remembered?" he said bluntly. "Where people rejoice in my death?"

"No, that's not true!" I cried, desperate to not let him descend into another fog of melancholy. "The ending has obviously been written by someone else. The first writer praised you and called you 'a man and knight of your lands'. They discredited the claims that you were like Majora."

"She used to call me a white giant," he murmured.

"You don't think that –?"

"She wouldn't have praised me so highly," he scoffed, but the wistful slant of his eyes and his tentative buttoning of only one side of his lip told me that he might have thought otherwise. "It could have been written by anyone, anyone at all."

"Tell me what it said again about the music he played," I said, careful to drive the subject in a more productive direction.

"It said 'the serenade of time itself', or there about," he replied, blinking away his sorrow.

I swallowed. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Yes, it does," he replied. "The Song of Time might be the key that will free me from this hellish prison."

* * *

**AN: Whew! Apologies for this being a bit late - various events conspired against me to get this done before the end of last week. However, I plan on finishing this by the end of the week (hopefully!), so expect some more updates in the coming days. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and as ever I'm very grateful for your continued support and feedback :). Only a few more chapters to go now!**

**~ Perfect Soldier 01**


	17. Chapter 17: White Eyes

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Chapter 17: White Eyes**

* * *

The Song of Time… It was the melody that had saved Hyrule from destruction, a simple tune that could turn back time and cure the wounds of the earth in a warm glaze of blue light, like the sky itself was sweeping across the land and lifting every haze of shadow back into the heavens. But it had also been the gateway that had led Link back his childhood, pulling him down a path where I could not follow. Together with the ocarina it had been the one parting gift I had given to him when he departed for Termina, and I had hoped that someday it would lead him back to me. I just didn't realise it would only be now that my wish would be finally realised.

"Do you think it will work?" I asked. "I know the Song of Time is an old and ancient melody, but can it really be the same one that sealed you away? I thought the Song of Time had only been passed down through the Hylian royal family."

Hanging his head in his hands, he let out a long and shuddering breath. "When I first came here," he said, "you asked me whether I remembered my name. To give you an answer, I don't. I don't remember my name, her name, or the name of anything I used to know and love. I don't remember the song he played, and I don't remember dancing for three days while he destroyed my very existence. All I see are faces, Zelda, faces with no names. I don't know if the Song of Time will free me, but at the moment it's the only thing that might help me. So please," he said looking up, his eyes tired and exhausted in a way I had never seen before, "don't doubt its power."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Your hero played that song many times in Termina, and I can hear it in his head even now. It's –" He paused, as if he were searching for the right word. "It's peaceful," he said finally, slightly separating the syllables as if the word was strange and foreign on his tongue. "Play it for me."

"All right…" I replied, but the rest of my words disappeared on my tongue as I thought about what I should say next.

The answer was sitting there in front of me, no longer just out of arm's length and beyond the tips of my fingers but within a laughably easy reach. All I had to do was play the Ocarina of Time and all this might be over in a matter of minutes. Link would be at my side and the Fierce Deity would be saved. Yet somehow every thought became sluggish inside my head, paralysed by the immediate imminence of it all. I hadn't expected to get this far so quickly and now I wasn't so sure whether I could actually go ahead with it straight away.

A heavy silence descended over us, and the fear of appearing callous struck me cold. I couldn't ask him to rush headlong into this, but the more he prolonged his final decision the more wary and anxious I became, and all of a sudden my mind was buzzing with questions about what would occur after the Song of Time had been sung. Would he be re-incarnated? What would happen to the mask? Would I have to remove it or could I free him just as he was now? What if something went wrong? Wouldn't his captor have planned against something like this? What if it was a trap?

"What will happen?" I said with a hurried nervousness, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to answer me, but asking somehow stilled the growing sense of dread crushing all the air out of my lungs.

"I don't know," he said dully, and the hefty hands of judgment were once again coiling round my neck.

"You –" I choked, the words tripping over my tongue. "You won't die… will you?"

Endeavouring to push away all my misgivings tugging and pulling at my heart, I waited readily for his reassurance. But when his eyes remained fixed silently on the ground I realised I had pushed too hard and everything, every bright hope and confident optimism from this morning, came crashing down as though I had just been punched hard in the stomach.

Without saying anything at all he stood up morosely and walked towards the window behind me. I stared at him open-mouthed, watching the thin line of his lips press inward as though they were charged with a mountain of lies.

"Tell me you're not going to die if I do this!" I shouted, my voice thin with panic as I shot up from my chair. "Tell me this isn't just another of your tactics to end your life!"

He stopped in his tracks as it screeched against the flagstones, his shoulders dropping stubbornly as he half turned toward me. "I don't know what will happen," he said again angrily, sounding each word with an added bite. "Everything dies if you wait too long, princess."

"But – "

"Stop asking questions I can't answer!" he roared. "There's no other way for this to end, Zelda, and you know that. Do you know what it's like, not being able to remember names? It means they don't exist! How do I know if something's real if I cannot name it? What am I remembering if I don't know who these people are anymore? Play the damn song and let me be done with it!"

His words shattered my will to argue back, hitting an old wound in my heart that I still had not fully recovered from. While I had not forgotten Link's name, I had tried to erase his face from my mind before and even after Zant's invasion, and he had suffered greatly because of my selfish and foolish pride. _"Who are you?"_ I had demanded childishly, and I bit my lip hard as the Fierce Deity's form faded out of focus. Turning away to hide my shame, I clenched my fists in silent protest, willing my composure to keep a hold of itself as he drifted back to the window.

"W-Would you… would you like some time alone before we do this then?" I stammered, my words raw and unsteady with humility.

His breath faltered and hitched in his chest as his palms hit his tunic, and I begged silently that this time he would give me an answer. But once again every noise grew quiet except the pounding thump of my own nerves rattling inside me. Trailing my eyes across the floor, the heels of his boots came into view an inch at a time until gradually I allowed myself to look at him in his entirety, his reflection shining solemnly in the windowpane.

Just like so many times before he was standing straight and unmoving, but there was something I just couldn't quite understand about him. He had seemed so ready for death only a few hours ago, but the mirror-like surface of the glass revealed the pained and broken turn of his mouth, and his sad eyes seemed to be lost in his own reluctance to step forward into his fate.

"Not alone," the Fierce Deity said finally, his tone smooth and calm. "I think I would like to see Hyrule once more. If indeed there is a last view for me to see, I want to be on top of that mountain again with the world at my feet." He spun on his heels and his reflection vanished, along with every trace of hesitation. "Will you take me there?"

He came forward and clapped me on the shoulders, holding them so close in his large hands that I almost forgot he wanted a response.

"O-Of course," I said with a slight warmth rising in my cheeks. "Whatever you ask."

"Thank you," he breathed, and he pulled me into a rough embrace, making me stumble forward as his arms snapped steadfast along the curve of my back, knocking every word right out of my mouth. "I'm sorry," he added with the same low murmur, "for everything that I've done."

I wasn't sure when my hands had found their way round his waist, but they started to hold him just as tightly, and I let myself lean into his chest by way of acceptance. "You have nothing to apologise for."

"Don't lie to me, Zelda."

"All right then," I jested. "Apology accepted."

"Thank you." His arms then loosened and I could breathe deeply again. "Shall we go?"

Gazing up at him, I saw his resignation on his face as clear as the morning light, and he looked back at me with the knowing easiness of a condemned man. Had this been the face he had shown to his wife on the night of her death?

"If you're ready," I said as steadily as I could.

By way of an answer he simply twisted in the direction of the door, making a move and expecting me to follow. But as soon as he had stepped forward he then ground to a halt, teetering on his toes as if he had forgotten something or suddenly changed his mind. Without warning his arm swung back and he extended his hand for me to accept, the pleading slant of his eyes eventually reaching the same destination, as though he were fighting against the crashing wave of his own arrogance and superiority.

My chest swelled with a touching tenderness at the sight of such meekness, and I reached out gladly to return the gesture. But the image of his wife being refused such a privilege flashed unexpectedly before me, and I paused for a moment, hovering directly over the inviting curl of his fingertips. However he closed the gap himself and pulled me forward, leaving me no time to contemplate his motives as we walked back to Link's chamber hand in hand to fetch the ocarina.

All the while my heart crashed and raged against my ribs, being pushed and pulled in one direction after another by the stormy squall of my concern. I couldn't think of anything else except his wife and how I was somehow replacing her, and every fibre of my body felt like it was trembling uncontrollably as the past began to converge with the present in front of my very eyes. No doubt I was a poor substitute for the one he truly longed to be at his side, but the only thing I could do was grip his hand tighter in an attempt to anchor him back into this world.

Just what was he seeing through those blind, white eyes?

It was only when I momentarily extracted myself from the Fierce Deity to retrieve the key for the ocarina's chest that I realised how hard I had been squeezing his fingers. My knuckles had blanched a sickly ashen colour from the pressure as I lifted the lid and withdrew the sacred treasure from its resting place. But when I had placed the ocarina in my pocket I found his hand extended again with timid appreciation, and as my hand resumed its place underneath the base of his thumb, he held it just as strongly, if not harder, as if he too feared being overtaken by the force of the past.

We continued on our way in silence, making our way through the manor until we reached the outer gates that opened onto the mid-morning snow. I almost wished we could stop right here and now, for the walk to the mountain top was a long and winding journey and I didn't believe my courage would last that long under the strain of this delicate task. But together our feet kept moving forward, ploughing through the snow in a unified crunch despite every protest and objection that bounced back and forth between my ears.

Eventually we found the shallow trail of our footprints from the previous day still lying indented in the snow. There had been so many things to think about since then, so many feelings I didn't understand. I had come down this mountain angry with myself for succumbing to the Fierce Deity's affections, guilty that I had delighted in his touch, and confused by how everything had happened so rapidly. There had been no conversation and no contact, and even though we had walked side by side as we were now, the silence had been excruciating.

But as I placed my boot into the ghost of yesterday's footfall, I felt my resolve grow stronger. I looked up at the Fierce Deity, making sure one last time that he was still willing to go through with this, only to find him gazing back at me with the same consoling reassurance, and both of us nearly laughed. Mirroring a shy smile we continued onward, forging a new path as we marched over the vestige of times gone by.

As long as he was happy, I realised that it didn't matter who I was to him. It was my duty to not let him down, not now that we had come so far. We would face this as one and not look back until it was over.

When we had finally reached the top of the cliff and rounded the small rocky outcrop that cornered it off from the main trail, our hands divided and the Fierce Deity walked forward to the very edge of the mountainside, his posture ever straight and proud in the sunlight.

"This place," he said as I came to stand beside him, his gaze never leaving the horizon. "It reminds me so much of home."

Home… He had never used that word before.

"Where was home for you?" I said soothingly.

"It was in the valley of a thick forest, and the mountains rose up high on either side, carved out of the earth by the thick ice of winter long before man ever set foot there. I used to climb up those mountains as a boy and stand at the top like this," he said, raising his arms high above his side, "looking out far and wide over the kingdom I would come to rule as my own."

But then his hands collapsed back to his waist and he retreated to the stone bench behind us.

"I once took her up those mountains," he said wistfully, "soon after we were married, in an attempt to win her favour. She wasn't best pleased with the long climb, but I'll never forget the look on her face when she reached the top, even though her indignant pride soon snatched it away as punishment for not having helped her."

"Do you miss her?"

"Yes," he said without needing to think about his answer, "very much so."

"Then her name isn't important," I said, sitting down beside him. "All these things you've remembered, the places, the people, what you felt, all of those must be real! No one can invent such detail if they haven't lived through it, it's not possible."

He grunted unconvincingly. "There is one last request I would like to ask of you," he said.

"What is it?" I said, unsure as to what I could do for him now that we were so far away from the manor.

He rose from the bench, his teeth tearing at his lower lip and his brow darkening in contention as he took my hands and hauled me up beside him. My eyes shot up the tower of his body and the snow groaned beneath us, but all I could hear was my pulse in my ears, hammering loudly like a stick against the taut skin of a drum.

"Kiss me," he said, barely above a whisper, "one last time."

I think I must have nodded, for he lowered his head to mine even though I had never felt the hinge of my neck rise and fall against my chest. His lips encircled mine, caressing them in the same he had done before the guards had dragged him to the dungeons, full of the desperate wrench of departure and the long breath of apology.

But then the tilt of his head lowered as though he were bending down, and suddenly his hands were lifting me up from the small of my back, bending me over the arc of his spine as he leant backwards, forcing me to scramble up the course of his torso, grab blood-stained clusters of his tunic and throw my hands around neck before I lost my balance completely. Before I knew it my feet were dangling against his knees, my head level with his as he held me against him, suspended against nothing but his own body and I gasped breathlessly into his neck until he quickly found my mouth again.

He deepened the kiss as he ran a hand through my hair, surrounding the base of my skull, moulding and guiding me where he pleased, and I was helpless in the wake of his desire. A shot of pleasure subsequently coursed through the very fabric of my skin as our foreheads pushed together, writhing hotly as my fingers pulled his cap from his hair, and he shivered as I dragged my nails lightly across the nape of his neck and hooked my thumbs round his ears as I had done before.

But something hard and sharp scraped against my hand and I suddenly realised what he was doing.

"N-No!" I cried, jerking away from him and covering the tell-tale edges of his mask so that I wouldn't have to look at them. "No, I won't do that!"

He sighed and opened his eyes, and slowly lowered me back down to the ground. "Just checking," he muttered, his gaze averted.

"Just checking? What the hell is that meant to mean?" I shouted, too angry to control the shrill volume of my words.

"I was giving you the chance to back out," he said heavily as though he was disappointed in me. "I know that it would be easier for you if you just took off my mask and forgot about all this."

"I can't believe you!" I slapped him hard and hoped it hurt, but he didn't flinch in the slightest. "I promised to help you! Does that not mean any –?"

"Of course it means something!" he shouted with equal ferocity. "It's just that…" he continued, his voice suddenly having shrunk from its mighty roar. "You would be surprised how no one has ever fulfilled a promise they've made to me before."

"Well," I replied, matching his collected exterior with great difficulty. "Let me fulfil my promise now."

Shoving him away, I trudged closer to the cliff-face, too angry to be anywhere near him. Aside from his arrogance and utter rudeness when we first met, this was probably the single greatest insult he had ever bestowed on me, and I was hurt that he had so little faith in my trust. I retrieved the ocarina hastily, rolling it roughly in the hollow of my hand as my fingers curled automatically around the sides, grazing the holes that were still as round and smooth as I remembered them to be. Pressing it to my chest, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that its cool blue surface would expel every shred of my disgust and frustration.

"Ready?" I barked.

"Play away," he replied with stinging indifference.

I started the melody, the notes wobbly at first as my lips were still throbbing with the remnants of both his kiss and my own wounded pride. But as I played it over and over again, the sound resonated with a rich and soothing warmth, filling the air around us with the pleasantries of an age long past. My anger melted away instantly as I remembered the smallest of recollections I thought I had lost forever in the ensuing race against forgetfulness. The face of my mother and her smile; the slip of my Sheikah veil when I had reached out for Link's hand the night Kakariko Village burned in the wake of the Shadow Temple's curse; the longing in his eyes when I met him once again by the waters of Lake Hylia; the old grin of my father and the comforting way he used to stroke my hair as a child.

"Keep playing!" the Fierce Deity shouted, although he sounded like he was miles away.

I played harder, and as the song came into its own I felt a wind begin to whirl across my cheeks, sweeping away the very last grains of resentment that were still clinging to my ego. Imbuing my thoughts into the music, I thought of him, his wife and the home he had told me about. I thought of her death, their first embrace, the moment he brought her to the mountains, the night he had tried to push her into safety. I thought of the warrior, the sword of green and blue, and the red jaws of revenge. I thought of her writing those very words, a testament to the history she never felt a part of. Most of all I thought of his sadness, and I prayed to the goddesses that he would once again feel the glow of happiness burn within him.

Song of Time! Set him free!

Light suddenly shot forth from the ground and my eyes flew open. The Fierce Deity was floating in mid-air, his arms and legs limp and bent as his head hung back over his shoulders until his chest heaved a long, loud, piercing cry of contorted pain, and the sheer agony of it nearly made me crumble to the ground in fright. Clashing violently with the soft and mellow tones of the ocarina, I could feel my mind splitting in two and I clamped my eyes shut.

A third sound then joined in from nowhere, emerging with a grating lethargy as it howled itself into existence. I almost cried out in pain as the sound grew almost unbearable, but I knew I had to keep playing. I had to continue. Forcing my eyes open, I squinted against the glare and saw something lift itself out from the Fierce Deity's chest, pale and transparent as the god I knew disintegrated and retreated from view, the light swirling round them, higher and higher until I was blinded by its intensity. I shut my eyes again, playing and playing the song until the blazing lustre of magic faded and grew dim through the cover of my eyelids.

The snow then gave way before me, and someone stumbled haphazardly into space between us as though they had never learnt to walk, gasping for air. Lifting my eyes, the ocarina fell from my hands without me even realising.

Before me knelt a man on all fours, a cloak of pure white draped over his shoulders as he struggled to keep himself from falling flat on the ground, and long white strands of hair fell in front of his face and around his cheeks as he coughed and choked on nothing at all. Link stood behind him, dazed and confused by his surroundings but there all the same.

I dared not breathe in case this was a dream.

But when the man on the ground lurched forward and screamed in pain, the force of reality hit me hard and fast. I rushed to his side immediately, crying frantically for Link to help me as my drowsy fingers tried to roll him onto his back. The clenched face of the Fierce Deity shouted up at me, and his hands darted to his heart, scrabbling and sliding against the smooth plates of his new armour as though he were trying to tear it apart.

"What's wrong?" I sobbed, unable to think of what I could do to help him.

"Get him out of his armour," Link ordered, reaching towards the straps and buckles at his shoulders, and together we hoisted it over his head.

At once he clawed at his skin, his breath short and empty, and both Link and I recoiled as he whispered something so hoarse I couldn't understand it.

"What have I done?" I murmured, feeling absolutely sick to my stomach in a way I never thought possible, watching helplessly as he doubled over again, thrashing violently in the snow.

He stopped and gasped, his words thin and incomprehensible again, and his arm wavered and crawled toward me like a newborn child. I grabbed it clumsily as I shuffled closer without thinking. Link helped him to sit up, and I cradled his head against my breast, letting my tears run freely down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," I said again and again, overrun with horror. "I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

He managed a smile.

"Zelda," he breathed, and his hand staggered up to my jaw-line, knocking against my neck and chin blindly until he finally reached my cheek, catching my teardrops on his fingertips before dropping lifelessly down to my lap.

His eyes rolled closed.

"Fierce Deity?" I shouted, shaking his shoulders. "Wake up, come on, wake up! Don't die! I promised that I wouldn't let you die!"

But he was a mere doll in my hands, and when he didn't move again the dam of my sorrow burst for good. I wept bitterly, crying aloud as I held him close, embracing him as tightly as I had held his hand only an hour ago, not caring who heard me. Link's arms then enclosed me from behind, supporting us both as my limbs grew weak with grief.

"He's gone," I croaked deliriously. "He's gone! I promised I wouldn't lose him."

"It's not your fault," Link said gently as he drew me into his arms, doing his best to whisper consoling nothings into my ear.

"After all that, all we went through –" My voice broke, and I sobbed into the crook of the Fierce Deity's shoulder. "All of it was for nothing!"

"He's been sealed away a long time, Zelda," Link said. "Maybe his body couldn't cope with it all."

"_Everything dies if you wait long enough, princess"_

I shuddered as his words echoed cruelly in my ears, as though he had whispered them himself from his cold lips. "Maybe he knew," I said quietly, my tears still wracking my lungs and rupturing the steady stream of my voice.

"Maybe he did, but he was at peace," Link replied, rubbing my shoulder tenderly. "When we separated, I could feel his happiness. His spirit was light and easy, and he welcomed his freedom. You made him better, Zelda, you saved him. He wanted nothing more than that."

"But I promised! I-I didn't even get to say goodbye."

"I know. Death is harsh and cruel –"

"And you don't think life can be that fragile," I finished. "He said that to me, on this very spot. And he was right."

With my body still trembling from shock and abandon, I compelled myself to sit up and lay the Fierce Deity back on the ground, mustering all the strength I could to look him in the face again. Link had been true to his word, and for the first time I finally saw him at peace. There was no other way to describe it, for before me lay a man whose frown had vanished and whose sorrow had been lifted. He was a man who had a smile on his lips, however vague and small, and, closing his eyelids, I wiped my tears and tried to smile back at him.

His would be a face I would never forget, and his name would live on in my memory for as long as I lived.

"The Fierce Deity, the white giant, the godly king, the man and knight of his lands," I said, my voice growing stronger with every word. "May you sleep now for all eternity."

* * *

**AN: Woah, what a ride this has been. That was the final chapter, my friends (although an epilogue will be following in a few weeks when I get back from my vacation). I'd like to say a huge thank you to every one of my readers and reviewers - you're the people I write for, so thank you for sticking with me over these past years and continuing your support. I'll never forget your kindness! I hope the ending wasn't too disappointing after such a long wait! XD I can understand you guys being mad at me for what I ended up doing to the Fierce Deity, but I had always planned for this to happen. In a way it's the ultimate culmination of everything that he and Zelda spoke of, of all the memories they shared and the parallels that they forged between them. I hope you understand and can see why I made this decision. Please don't hate me! XD**

**But with all that said and done, this only leaves me to say another great thank you to everyone, and I will be back with the final final epilogue in three weeks.**

**Until then, ~ Perfect Soldier 01**


	18. Epilogue: Letters of the Vault

**White Eyes**

By Perfect Soldier 01

**Epilogue: Letters of the Vault**

* * *

"_Summer, Eightieth Year of Ordona._

_Dearest Brother, _

_I must keep this note short and brief. I enclose this book so that you may use it at your own discretion. Circumstances have made it difficult to keep it here, but I dared not destroy it lest it be needed in the future, though I pray that the Goddesses never bring such an ill fate upon the world again. I know that your dear Queen is highly proficient in linguistics, and I hope that she may be able to finish what I have begun. I regret that I was only able to make a very short foray into those ancient words, but I pray her reading will be a peaceful exercise despite the terrible beast to be found within the pages._

_Keep well, for I am unsure when I may be able to see your face again. Your sister."_

_-_

"_To my dear mama, _

_I am having a wonderful time with my lessons here with the Wind Tribe. I have learned so many things for when I become king one day, but I do wish that I didn't have to be tutored so far away from home. I know that you will say it is for my own good, that I have to be strong and courageous for when I take father's crown, and I know that you are right. My only fear is that I will be forgotten when I return home and my people will not obey me when I come to take the throne. I do hope that little Daltus is behaving himself and that he remembers his elder brother. Please tell him that I think of him often, and I hope that he is not cross with me for only seeing him once a year. _

_But I must tell you, mama, of a story I learned today. It is so fantastic I can barely believe it! Old Gregal said that once a great monster roamed the land here, eating whole villages and castles in one bite! Can you imagine such a creature? He even said that it had destroyed the Fortress of Winds! How terrifying it must have been! I almost cannot believe that the very walls around me now were once overthrown by a single creature! I hope that our great land of Hyrule is never threatened by such a monster. But now I come to the part which I wanted to tell you about most, so I shall continue with the story. _

_Gregal told us that while the beast continued to eat up the world around him, there was a white knight who rose up from the ashes and fought the monster in heated combat for centuries! Gregal said he was very brave and courageous, and that was how I should fight my foes when I am king, always striving for peace no matter what the consequences. He didn't finish the story though, and when I asked him what happened to the white knight he said that they were still fighting somewhere in a far off land, locked in eternal combat forever and ever. I'm not sure I believe this part, but I liked how brave the white knight was, protecting his people for all of time. Have you ever heard this story? Can you tell me the ending when I come home? _

_Your son, Gustaf."_

_-_

"_Mid morning, Summer, third year of Lanayru._

_There is a beast, a terrible beast, snarling and grunting with big tusks and vicious fangs. I see him staring at me, my hand glowing like the sun. His great hoof glows too, almost blinding to my eyes. Yet somehow I know that all is well, the land is safe. Eight pillars of light stream down in front of me, separating me from harm's way."_

_-_

"_I address this letter to the Royal House of Hylian Sages, for there is an urgent matter that I need to draw to your attention. I fear a great calamity has befallen our great kingdom of Koholint, and I write to beg for your assistance in tackling this monstrosity. I am led to believe that this is not the first time that such a nightmare has gripped our land with such terror, but the Great Wind Fish does not answer our calls and I have nowhere else to turn. You, Hyrule, are our closest ally, and your unsurpassed wisdom is our only hope of survival. _

_Their leader, the one they call Dethl, we believe you have encountered before with the rebel faction of Dark Interlopers. Your great courage in expelling those wretches from your land was perhaps your greatest triumph, but now they have come calling at our beaches, determined to cover our dear island in the darkest of clouds and the most devilish of nightmares. Just the face of Dethl has been enough to strike the hearts of our people stone cold, with those great, terrifying eyes, as I am sure you will no doubt remember, inflicting all manner of illness and disease on our citizens. It is only a matter of time before everyone succumbs to this strange, dreamlike state of disillusion, where one reality blurs into the next as if a mask has been pulled down over our eyes, and I fear by the time this letter reaches your counsel I too will have fallen in its wake. Please, dearest Hyrule, help us in our hour of need! _

_The Elders of Mabe Village."_

_-_

"_Magic has long been condemned as a dark art in the land of Hyrule, a terrible force that many only use for the ill will of their own selfish desires. But I call to you, dear brothers, to stand up against this unnecessary tide of censure and show just how good the workings of magic can be! We are not like the Dark Interlopers, seeking nothing but power and greed; we are the White Knights of Hyrule who fight for the glory of our people and to defend our beloved nation. We do not worship the heinous creatures of their faith, the monsters of nightmare and atrocity whose eyes pierce the hearts of the pure with the savage sting of sin. We do not harness the power of masks or hide in the shadows of the dark arts! We step boldly into the light of the Goddesses, our souls full of their courage, power and wisdom, and it is this which gives us the strength to rid our land of these monsters. We must once again prove that magic is a worthy and righteous power, my brothers, so even though the Triforce may now be concealed from us for all eternity, do not let that stop you from following in the shining glory of the Goddesses. Rise up and be counted among those who embrace magic and its goodness! Rise up and be counted among those who shun the darkness of evil in all its forms! Rise up and be counted, my dear brothers, among those who wish to protect Hyrule from the likes of the great beast's followers, who wish to live in peace, and who refuse to let its minions tear away their homes and livelihoods. The monster may be long since dead, but its brethren are ready at every corner to carry on the battle. Be ready, my brothers, and join us in our quest to master the great power enchantments that will lead the way to our future! Join us, the White Knights of Hyrule!"_

_-_

"_Sunrise, early Spring, fifth year of Ordona. _

_The sound of drums has long been on the horizon in my dreams, but I am unsure what it means. The sky is red with blood and the air is beating steadily with the pounding hearts of all those who have been slain. A great fire burns the landscape in a faraway land, never ceasing. A dark figure looms on a dark horse, jeering and laughing. I fear that this is not related to the current darkness extending over our lands, but a new and troublesome future that lies ahead of us. But the most worrying thing I see is whenever I am just about to wake; everything disintegrates to darkness and two huge, monstrous yellow eyes stare at me from out of the darkness, two eyes that I have seen before."_

_-_

"_Second month, Fourty-Fourth Year of Faron._

_My dearest aunt,_

_I came across the most astonishing thing in my studies just this morning, and I had to write immediately to tell you about my findings. It seems that one can make time move through the power of music! Now please don't look at my letter like that, for I know that everything I say is often met with one of your incredulous looks, but this time I am most serious and you must believe me in earnest. As you know, I have been studying here in the Ministry of the Sages and White Knights for quite some time now, and I discovered the most interesting manuscript, complete with the scrawling of some ancient melody! I was down in the dungeons excavating the ruins, for I am sure you are aware of the myths surrounding those dungeons, those stories of the Queen being held captive down here under some terrible creature, and underneath a whole host of the newer flagstones I found this decrepit old sheaf of papers! It seems to be written in some kind of code, but I am certain of two words at the very least: 'song' and 'time'. I am still at a loss as to what instruments can access this mysterious power, but I've been cross-referencing the song with the academics as well as checking them against all the pieces of music recorded in the Book of Mudora. Work is slow, but I truly believe that if I can unearth this mystery then I may just be onto something here. I am absolutely determined to find a way to reverse that terrible slumber of our dear princess. No doubt you can except to hear from me again shortly._

_Your humble nephew."_

_-_

"_An Encyclopaedia of the World's History (rough first draft), Seventy-Eighth Year of Eldin._

_Entry 52. Logbook 17. The Fused Shadow._

_This is a most forbidden magical object that has said to have been sealed in the vaults of the Sacred Realm, never to see the light of day ever again. It was forged from the very heart of darkness itself by the Dark Interlopers, using a most terrible magic that was thought to be lost long ago in the wake of time. While not much is known about its creation, there are certain histories of this artefact that profess it to be the child of 'Majora', a supposedly most fearsome monster of long ago that once ruled this earth in an unending reign of menacing tyranny. This seems to be the popular theory expressed by the rural inhabitants of this land, although it cannot be verified with much certainty. _

_However, I was assured by the elders of several villages I visited that it was most definitely not the first object to be created in this creature's name. They recounted numerous tales of a mask being created from the very remains of Majora itself by a revered yet seemingly malicious warrior who wanted Majora's power for himself. They tell me that this 'mask' of Majora was the true source of the Fused Shadow, a refined, more potent symbol of Majora's true wrath. Again, this is not the most reliable data, but it seems to be the only source of its history. I will have to decide at a later stage in my experiments whether it's trustworthy or not._

_Interestingly, as a side note which I will explore in greater depth in another entry, there seemed to be a distinct split down the centre of each tribe I spoke with concerning another figure in the Majora lore. There seems to have been another warrior, some of them called him a god, who fought either alongside or against Majora in a fierce battle, who also fell at the mercy of Majora's slayer. Yet none of the elders could agree on whether he was friend or foe, a saviour or a villain. Some of them called him the White Knight, others the Great Fierce Giant, others still the Fierce Deity. Some praised the slayer as the great hero, while the rest of them condemned him as a harbinger of all the world's current evil, praising the Fierce Deity instead. He seems the most mysterious figure, but I will expound upon my findings in more detail when I have gathered more information."_

_-_

"_First sight of autumn, third year of Eldin._

_I see a great head with two great, yellow eyes, their tiny pupils piercing the bulging yellow irises. Two tall pointed spikes protrude from its crown, with several others framing its face. But the eyes then recede into darkness, and a beast covered in long swathes of white hair with a long snout steps out into the light, a crown of six peaks round its neck. "Tell me what you desire, child," he says to me, but I am too frightened to reply. "You know I eat children like you…" he sneers. "Do you want me to eat you? I shall, if you don't tell me what wish you want me to grant." But before I can answer he lets out a great roar which forces me to close my eyes. I hear my heart thump as loud as a drum in my ears and throat as the terrifying noise rattles through me. When I open my eyes again there is a great pig-like monster standing in place of the white beast, a flaming red mane setting his pitch black body alight. Instead of his six-peaked crown he holds two sharp fork-like spears, six sharp blades in his claws. But those eyes, those glaring, shining eyes. Those are exactly the same."_

_-_

"_Come one, come all! In celebration of the anniversary of The Great War of the Continents, come and see our acclaimed musical troupe perform live in your very city square! We promise a concert like none you have ever seen, and we guarantee to make day turn into night while you listen to us play! We have a wealth of experience and variety for everyone to enjoy, with a repertoire of old and new music from across the aeons. Our show-stopping performance of the famous "Song of Time" will literally transport you back to the cataclysmic battle itself! So join us in merry celebration this harvest!"_

_-_

"_Winter, Eightieth Year of Faron._

_Dearest brother,_

_Thank you so much for taking care of our little endeavour. I could not go into much detail about it previously, but now I can take the opportunity without fear of compromise. I myself am not entirely certain as to how this issue has become so prevalent in the minds of the people again, but there has been much unrest lately as to whether our dear white knight was indeed such a hero as we claim. It is indeed well known through the kingdom that the royal family has always advocated his endeavours and celebrated him as the one man who rose up to destroy that terrible and villainous evil. But there has lately been a kind of resurgence of supporters for that ill-fated third party, and the people have been very vocal in expressing their abhorrence of our dear hero. I have sent a team of my own private guards to investigate the origin of this upheaval, but they have been unable to yet confirm its source. _

_The reason I sent you our beloved treasure was a culmination of many factors, and I do hope that I have not subsequently put you in danger, dear brother, by burdening you with such a task. We had a scare in the castle not all that long ago – one night some thieves had broken into the kitchens, no doubt to steal only some food, but they were apprehended not all that far from the library with dark lanterns in their hands, their pockets full of tinder and twigs. Previous to that incident there were numerous threats of burning the scriptures we hold due to their allegedly blasphemous praise of our hero, and just within the last few turns of the moon our effigies have been vandalised and some have even been torn down entirely. Even my dear husband eventually sided with the people, much to my continuing displeasure and grief I assure you, but I feared a revolt would be on our doorstep in no time at all if I was not seen to accept their wishes. _

_So I made a proclamation to the people that we were to change our ways and that I had destroyed the book myself – coming from me it would have meant so much more to them than had my husband done it, so please do not be angry with me for being so duplicitous. I feel utterly ashamed, but I can no longer trust anyone but you to keep our secret. I tried to reason with the people, persuade them towards the honest truth that our family knows so well, but they would not listen, no matter how hard I tried. I know that we are the living testimony of his heroism, and I will carry that honour proudly until the day I die, even though I am a coward and an undoubted failure in the eyes of our family. _

_Please be strong, brother, for my sake, and keep me in your prayers often. I think of you always, but now I am certain we will never be able to meet again except in secret. At least I still have our private guard of loyal servants who will ferry this letter into your very hands. I long for the day when I will be able to once again sing the glories of our white knight throughout the land. _

_Your beloved sister."_

_-_

"_First frost, third year of Eldin._

_A lost child. There is a lost child crying. He has lost his friends; they have left him behind and have hidden themselves away in four corners of the land. But he has found a new one, one which calms his sorrow, but now the child laughs horribly, gazing at the moon. He sits beside his friend and looks into its yellow eyes set within a crown of ten horns. He holds him close."_

_-_

"_An Encyclopaedia of the World's History (rough first draft), Seventy-Ninth Year of Lanayru._

_Entry 60. Logbook 18. The Great War of the Continents._

_After gathering extensive information on this topic, I am still uncertain about how to describe this event. There are many conflicting accounts and different tales of folklore surrounding this historic event, and so I hope that the reader will forgive this slightly unorthodox approach and appreciate the difficulty I have encountered in attempting to piece together this mysterious story._

_As I have mentioned previously, the Fused Shadow is professed to have been born from a parent artefact, known by many as Majora's Mask. The current whereabouts of both items is unknown, and it is doubted that they even exist in this world anymore. But while the Fused Shadow does not feature in this particular entry, its parent is of great importance and is highly significant in the unfolding tale._

_I shall begin with the first account, which I hereby dub, 'Majora the Tyrant'._

_This is the more generally accepted view, and portrays Majora as a great and horrific tyrant. Images of his appearance vary, ranging from a great hairy monster to a mere man. More often than not he is described as a monstrous beast. He lived in a land whose name has been long since lost by time, supposedly millions of years ago. Some place his existence only thousands of years ago, varying between eight and ten thousand years. In any case, it is undisputed that he conducted much of his war alone, and it was only later in his life that he began to recruit followers for his cause._

_For years and years Majora remained unopposed. Many had tried to defeat this heinous creature, but just as many had failed and had succumbed to his terrible power, either by a painful decapitation or the whole consumption of their flesh. Another universal fact tells of rumours that began to spread about how Majora's armour could grant any wish or desire, but this only increased the death toll and Majora's subsequent victory over the whole world. _

_He continued to ravage the land until he was met by a king of a far away land, another kingdom whose name has been long since erased and whose location is unknown. Many say that this kingdom was on the other side of the world, some placing its origin on the Island of Maze beyond the Path of Fire, but there seems little to account for such speculation. This king was unlike all the others who had opposed him before. It is said that he was king of the last known stronghold in the entire world (which in itself was still a sizeable proportion of the world's land), and consequently Majora engaged him in battle, fighting for supremacy of the whole universe as we know it. _

_Again, the king is portrayed in many different lights, but common opinion stipulates that he was human. Some call him a giant, some a monster much like Majora, but regardless of shape and form, his defining characteristic is an association with the colour white. There is even a popular myth that describes him as possessing white eyes due to a terrible blindness he suffered from since birth._

_In any case, blind or not, he and Majora fought over the land for what some have described as millennia. There seems to be no definite measurement of precisely how long they were engaged in battle, but it was certainly for a considerable amount of time. It was during this period that Majora was forced to gather reinforcements to aid his battle, and each side entered into an apparent stalemate, endlessly trading wins and losses with no clear victor in sight for many decades (for purposes of ease and clarity, we shall assume the king to be of a man's breeding, and so consequently that he could only have lasted the average life-span of an ordinary human being). _

_Then a curious development occurs in the legend, and it is virtually a unanimous fact that a third warrior entered the fray. It is admitted that no one knows where this warrior came from, but it is said that he was a wanderer, roaming the land with a drum strapped to his back and dancing with a feather in his hair, which, so I am told, apparently had the magical properties of being able to transform into a sword. _

_In this version of the story, this dancing warrior visited both Majora and the king and turned both of them into masks! With a simple song he ended years of strife and torment and freed the imprisoned world from their suffering. No one can decide quite how a song managed to turn both these mighty warlords into masks so easily, but many describe him as a powerful and secret sorcerer who had mastered how to control the essence of time itself. He was therefore hailed as the great Hero of Men who destroyed the two greatest evils this world has ever known. _

_However, there are other accounts which emphasise the great nobility and self-sacrifice of the white king, and followers of this doctrine denounce the dancing warrior as the greatest misfortune in history, some even calling him a divine prank of the Goddesses. They believe that, had the dancing warrior not interfered, the white king would have prevailed and crushed the evil of Majora once and for all. _

_I say 'once and for all' due to the creation of Majora's Mask. While supporters of the dancing warrior proclaim that the mask was born with no remnants of Majora's power, critics and sceptics of this theory believe that Majora's Mask brought forth a remaining trace of the beast's strength into the world, and due to the unknown whereabouts of this mask, it is certainly worrying about what consequences would ensue if it fell into the wrong hands. Moreover, as the Fused Shadow is believed to be a direct result of harnessing Majora's power, the white king's supporters stand firm in their protest. They argue that destroying Majora once and for all would have ultimately prevented the events which led to the Hylian Civil War, the creation of the Dark Interlopers, and the subsequent history of that unfortunate nation. _

_Yet there is further third version to add to this increasingly complex mixture of fact and fiction which promotes the actions of Majora himself. Naturally this course of events was obtained from the most dangerous of sources and the most unscrupulous of characters, but in the interest of keeping this encyclopaedia neutral and fair this account must be added. This tale of history provides a somewhat unrealistic yet intriguing insight into the motivations of Majora, attempting to place him in a more justifiable light._

_It begins by stating that Majora was the only one of his kind, a kind of beast that had long been extinct in the world, with Majora its last remaining survivor. He roamed the earth alone, keeping to the mountains where he would not be slain due to the magical wish-granting properties of his armour. But nevertheless there were still warriors who persecuted him, climbing up into his den to challenge the great monster. But as other accounts describe, none of these men could challenge Majora on equal footing. _

_Soon he grew tired and angry of worthless challengers and he began to make bitter war on the world, partly as revenge and partly in search for the one true warrior who could match his strength and power. He wanted to find the one fighter who could put an end to his misery, supposedly, the one who would give him a worthy death. _

_He scoured the world for such a man or monster, ravaging and pillaging every kingdom that stood in his way, and he finally met him in the form of the white king. He revelled in this battle, undertaking many dirty tricks to extend the skirmish, employing all the monsters of the land to help him in his battle to make it a worthy challenge. It is even claimed that he stole away the white king's wife and children, gobbling them up to enrage and provoke the white king further. _

_And Majora succeeded in his tactics. He prolonged the war more and more, even when he seemed almost defeated he rose up again as if from death itself, forcing the white king into an endless battle for all eternity. My sources told me that Majora never wanted it to end, that he might have even wished the white king were his friend – that he believed they would have almost have been certainly friends had they met under different circumstances – but it is difficult to credit such opinions. _

_Regardless of such unlikely sentiment, the interference of the dancing warrior put an end to all his struggles, bringing everything to a most unsatisfactory anticlimax. Majora was frozen in time and space, trapped inside a mask, never to receive the death he so clearly longed for. _

_But the story of Majora's Mask does not end there with this version. My sources were adamant that Majora's Mask still exists, quite where or in whose possession they couldn't tell me, and that Majora was merely sleeping inside those prison walls, waiting for the day when he would finally finish his battle with the white king. Some say that both Majora's Mask and the mask of the white king were taken back with the dancing warrior to wherever he came from, which many believe to be an alternative dimension altogether! Others simply state that the two masks still lie together in some unknown corner of the world, battling with each other across the void of thought and imagination until their masks are donned and they are brought back to life. _

_Such are the disparities which I have found myself collecting over the past few years, and so I leave it to you, dear reader, to decipher which you believe to be the most creditable tale. Do you favour the white king or the dancing warrior? Do you even feel a shred of remorse for the monstrous Majora? Each story has its own truths; each has its own flaws. I will guide you no further; it is your decision._

* * *

**AN: Finally. Here we are. The proper end! I apologise once again, for the very last time, for this taking a lot longer than the 'couple of weeks' I promised at the end of the last chapter! I started a new postgraduate course in September (converting to law in a year instead of three!) and I simply haven't had the time to write at all. As I said in the last chapter, I would like to say a HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who has been a reader, reviewer, or those lost along the way due to my severe lack of regular updates! You guys mean the world to me, so thanks for sticking with me. :D**

**But just before you get rid of me, I feel that this epilogue is probably in need of some explanation. Remember back when Zelda found the book about Majora in the the Records Vault? Remember she also found chests of letters? Well, these are some of those letters. I wasn't sure whether I should write a preceeding bit of narrative from Zelda's perspective to explain this or not, but I decided against it as I feel the main story has already been told, and the whole point of this epilogue was to just tie up a few loose ends with regards to how I've formed this crazy story in the first place (hence why everything is in italics)! Imagine that Zelda has been rooting through these letter chests some time after the events of the last chapter and that these are some of the letters she has picked out because they reveal a bit more about the Fierce Deity's history, as well as Majora's. I hope you could tell what I was hinting towards in all these letters - if not then by all means feel free to ask! By no means am I saying that this is how I see the Zelda universe, but given the circumstances I mention, there are lots of interesting connections to be made.**

**As for working out the years in the letters, to make it a bit more interesting I've imagined a system that uses each of the Four Light Spirits in **_Twilight Princess _**in rotation. So, for example, it would start with the 1st year of Ordona, then move onto the 1st year of Faron, then the 1st year of Eldin etc, and then repeat once all four had been done, so it would go back to 2nd year of Ordona etc. I know it's a tad complicated, but I thought it would be more plausible than making up names and months.**

**Fun facts! **

**Gustaf and Daltus were kings in **_The Minish Cap_**. **

**The letter to the Royal House of Hylian Sages refers to events in **_Link's Awakening_**.**

**Some of the prophecy letters refer to events in** _The Legend of Zelda**.**_

**The**_ Path of Fire _**and **_Maze Island_** are areas in **_The Legend of Zelda II: Link's Adventure_**.**

**The letter from the excavating nephew to his aunt refers to both **_The Legend of Zelda _**and**_ The Legend of Zelda II: Link's Adventure_**.**

**The Hylian Civil War is generally believed to describe the events that occured before **_Ocarina of Time_**, which led Link's mother into Kokiri Forest.**

**The Dark Interlopers were mentioned in **_Twilight Princess_**, and Ganondorf was called a **_'divine prank'_** in the scene at the Arbiter's Ground.**

**Lastly, I hope that I was able to give each letter a particular voice and character! I know that this chapter is very different from the others, but I really didn't want to explain this away, so it would be brilliant to hear what you think of these. So, with a last huge thank you, I bid you farewell for the time being. Until we meet again (or I actually have some time to write!) ~ Perfect Soldier 01 :) **


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